


All I Ever Wanted

by Samayel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Anal, Angst, Bottom Draco, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 55
Words: 140,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayel/pseuds/Samayel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of a half forgotten night of drunken revelry forces long buried memories and feelings to the surface for Harry and Draco, complicating both lives in ways they never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the actual first fanfic I ever wrote. In 55 chapters I pretty much blitzed my way to completion in a matter of a month or two. I was largely inspired by Jennavere, whose fics are still the stuff of H/D fluff legend. This single fic led to a lot of happy creativity...and I'm still very fond of it, even if it is a little cruder or less well thought out than some of the later works.

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write...are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Author's Foreword: All I Ever Wanted was my first work of fanfiction, and it shows in several ways. First, there are several instances of OOC-ness, but most were intentional and rooted in the plot. Second, it is a long fic, and the later chapters are perhaps a bit better written than the early ones. I hope you stick with the story long enough to reach the chapters I'm proudest of, particularly the end, which I'm told is worth the long read. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story, and if you have any thoughts or comments, do please feel free to share them in a review. Yours, Samayel 

 

"All I Ever Wanted".....chap.1 'Rude Awakening'

 

Draco woke slowly, self-awareness creeping upon him minute by minute, and with it, the realization that he was not in his own bed.

'Oh well, not exactly a new experience for the Slytherin Sex God,' he thought to himself. Despite what felt like a slowly brewing hangover that would soon be reaching its peak, Draco took a mental inventory of his condition. His head ached and throbbed, his tongue felt like an army had marched across it with muddy boots, his stomach was queasy and faintly rumbled with hunger. More tellingly, he was aware of a certain familiar soreness about his arse. 

'Hmmph...nothing new there either, but to give credit where it's due, he must have been better than average if I'm still feeling it now.' His jaw and throat were sore as well, giving further testament to the previous night's assumed activities. He remembered only the beginning of an inter-house party last night, and only fleeting images were left in his memory. Anger...he remembered anger, but not the source. There had been Firewhiskey and Butterbeer and then anger...and apparently sex as well. 

Tentatively, Draco peeled one eye open and scowled as he looked about the room. It appeared to be a spare Prefect's suite, and not well cared for at that. It had the feel of a room that had seen no use until last night, but at least the door to the bathroom was in plain view.

He'd used rooms like these for trysts before, but traditionally he remembered the entire experience. This could be a curse or a blessing depending on the skill and proportions of his many former paramours. A few had been the stuff of legends, but most had been a lot less than he'd hoped for once the lights were out. 

It wasn't as if he had been terribly demanding or anything...he expected just a few simple courtesies of his dates...like a killer body, endless stamina, and the ability to drive a railroad spike through a 2 x 4 with nothing but their penis. Was that really so much to ask?

He steeled himself and crawled out, looking back at the sleeping bundle on the other side of the bed. A tanned and lean muscled arm was thrown across a pillow, but the rest of the young man was covered in rumpled blankets.

Without any further delay, Draco walked into the suite's bathroom and made use of the toilet. He was a lot more tender than he had first thought, and he winced several times while his body relieved itself of his latest date's telltale leftover seed. 'Sweet Merlin! Either he comes like a racehorse or we went round a half dozen times! I can't believe I was so drunk I can't remember a night of sex that must have been bloody amazing! What a perfect gyp!!!' 

The last time he'd felt this exhausted after a night of sex was during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. There had been a Bulgarian chum of Viktor's that fancied Draco and, when they finally got a moment alone, it hadn't been wasted. They had shagged themselves nearly unconscious and Draco remembered fondly the subtle sense of relaxation that had lasted for over a week after that perfect night. He'd had to cover his almost giddy cheerfulness with a fresh round of hexes and threats to keep the other Slytherins on their toes. 

Just beneath the surface of his hangover, he could feel that much missed and long sought after giddiness and contentment creeping up on him. As soon as he could acquire a Hangover Potion he planned to spend his Sunday off languishing and enjoying the afterglow. First a shower, then lavish a little praise on last night's mystery partner, then down to Slytherin to score a Hangover Potion. He had a plan...and that always made him feel better.

While the shower warmed and steamed, Draco looked at himself in the mirror. His blond hair was spiky and mussed but still sexy, and the pale, slender body that looked back at him was flawless, utterly flawless. He smirked in perfect contentment at faint hickeys that marked his collarbone, evidence of his partner's enthusiasm. A pity he couldn't recall getting them, but at least he'd get a more formal introduction as soon as he was clean.

The bathroom was still stocked, with basic supplies like soap and towels, but it lacked the costly products Draco favored. He left a towel by the sink and climbed into the shower with an almost kittenish sigh of pure pleasure.

His head still throbbed, but at least the hot water scoured away the scent of Firewhiskey and the faintly musty scent of long unused blankets. It also washed away the less subtle aromas of sex that lingered about him...sweat, musk and come. He even stuck out his tongue in the stream of water and let the shower carry away most of his morning breath. He wanted his own products more than ever, after all, there was a man in the other room who might just be worth keeping around and here he was with only the most rudimentary hygiene supplies! This almost qualified as a disaster!

After making do with the soap and shampoo available, he rinsed himself thoroughly and turned the water off. When he was satisfied that he was not only dry, but also stunning to look upon, he wrapped the towel around his waist and prepared to give his mystery man a sexy wake up call.

He heard the sound of stumbling and a muffled curse from the other room. Not wanting his newest plaything to feel abandoned, he called out, "Good morning, sexy!" and started out the door from the bathroom. "You should know that last night was...was...OH, SWEET FUCKING MERLIN NO!" 

Stumbling around the the edge of the bed with his pants half on was none other than Harry 'The Scar Headed Prat That Barely Managed To Not Snuff It' Potter! Aside from the utter shock and horror that stopped him in his tracks, one other thing drew his attention. South of his perfect abs and dangling between Potter's taut and athletic legs was an absolutely incredible male member!

Naked lust may have distracted Draco for a second, but blind rage was fast in taking its place. Malfoy rallied and closed his gaping mouth. The angelic face that had so recently looked blissful and cheery in the bathroom mirror was pinched with outrage. Potter just stared in wide-eyed and horrified silence.

"Potter!" Draco hissed, "You fucking pillock! I don't know what you did to me last night or what unholy charm you used but I swear to..."

"WHAT THE..." spluttered a deeply confused and now furiously blushing Harry, "...ME?! Charm you! You miserable little ponce! I can't believe the nerve you have! You must have drugged me or hexed me or...or...well...done SOMETHING EVIL! I don't even know how I got here!"

"Well I certainly didn't invite you! I think I'm going to be sick! You! YOU dared to touch me! I wasn't in that shower long enough! It's going to take a lifetime to get the stink of you off of me! You PIG!" Draco had worked himself into a towering rage. He knew his wand had to be somewhere near. THERE...the nightstand. If he could work his way over to it slowly he'd be safe.

Potter looked livid and then suddenly almost morose. He pulled the last of his clothes on and sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. "I can't believe it...I can't believe I...this happened...I waited and waited and now it's all just a bloody waste..." he was muttering to himself.

Draco moved slowly to his wand and took stock of the situation. As much as he wanted to hex Potter right out of Creation he was caught completely off guard by the sniffling sounds coming from his nemesis. Harry Potter was crying! This called for a hasty reassessment. Some positively disgusting urge inside of him made Draco want to offer some kind of comfort to the dark-haired boy. Shaking with tension and still clutching his wand for security, he clamped down on his emotions and took control of his voice.

"No one has to know about this," he stated flatly. "In fact, make that no one can EVER know about this! No harm, no foul. We go our seperate ways and Obliviate ourselves until we have to repeat seventh year. This is salvageable, Potter. No one knows about this and it stays that way! I remember nearly nothing, you don't seem to either...let's just call it quits and get on with the year. How's that? Any better?"

Harry seemed to come around a bit, sheepishly wiping his eyes with a robe sleeve and fumbling with his glasses. 

"Yeah, okay," he uttered without spirit. Jade green eyes bored into Draco for a moment. Wheels were turning in Potter's mind, and it was with a sigh of resignation that he spoke again.

"I won't tell anyone if you won't. I swear it. You should know one thing though, seeing as we'll never mention this again. I would never use a charm on someone for...for this...I wanted my first time to be perfect, not a fucking drunken accident I'd have to lie about! Somehow I think you're telling the truth about not planning this, but if I'm wrong and you use this to hurt me, I also swear I'll make you pay in ways even a Slytherin wouldn't dream of!" With that final statement Harry stood and marched out of the room, leaving behind a shocked and silent Malfoy.

Draco stood in the room alone for almost a minute before he regained his composure. He'd been hooking up for fun with guys for nearly three years and not one had ever left bitter because they had HAD sex. The tears and recriminations usually came when they realized that Draco Malfoy wasn't going to require their presence any longer and that, as a result, they would no longer get to enjoy his attentions and would have to watch him flirt with his next conquest.

Well, there was the Nott Incident, though he shuddered to think of it. After promising Draco everything but the moon, sun and stars, Theo had finally gotten into Draco's good books long enough to get their clothes off. It had become quickly apparent that Nott wasn't 'equipped' to handle the job, in fact Draco still had trouble believing that there wasnt some kind of Shrinking Charm involved. When he laughed out loud at the sight of Nott's alleged 'manhood' it had prompted an immediate retreat by a shame-faced Theodore Nott. The bitterness of the other student was the subject of rumors, but Draco kept him in check with the threat of acid commentary that would leave him publicly ruined. After all, Draco Malfoy was not the 'Slytherin Prince' for no reason at all.

His mind drifted back to Potter. Damned unruly mind! He'd claimed Harry's precious virginity...and with not a word of thanks or gratitude. Insolent brat! Most people didn't make the cut to even speak to him, and fewer still were those blessed with the opportunity to receive sexual attention from him. He hadn't even known Potter was gay. Talking about playing one's cards close to the vest! And what a body under those oversized rags he called clothes!

Draco's mind flashed through the tiny delicious details of Potter's naked body, the light slope of shoulders, broad flat pecs, lean yet muscular arms and legs, washboard abs only slightly defined, his uniform tan, and then there was his face. That annoyingly half-cute / half-handsome face framed by doubly annoyingly messy dark hair, and those almost hypnotic emerald green eyes that always seemed too wide to be anything but pretense. Draco suddenly realized that his body was responding to these thoughts, and he almost had his hand under his towel before he snapped back to reality. 'Fucking Potter! Not sexy, not even cute! Repulsive...wrong...wrong...wrong! Think not sexy thoughts!! Snape naked! McGonagall starkers!! Sex with girls! Having to top!!!' 

With some effort, he got himself back to an unaroused state of mind, and started pulling his clothes on while he went over cover stories for what happened after that cursed party. He was almost finished when the first glimmer of a flashback struck him. He was about to leave and, as he stood holding the doorknob, he looked back at the bed. His mind's eye flickered, and for a brief ecstatic second, he remembered.

Strong hands, yet gentle, one cradling his chin and lifting it and the other around his waist and holding him close. The kiss was the maddening thing. Fumbling and awkward for a moment, then suddenly fierce and hungry...not the soulless hunger of a predator, but the gentle hunger of a lover...sincere and almost flavored with tears. Whiskey-laced tongues meeting and melting, one into the other, then a moment apart staring into eyes like green pools that hid depths you could swim in forever.

Then he was back, in an empty room, looking at an unmade bed and cursing under his breath while fighting off a legendary hangover. Slytherin's common room was a long walk away, and the rest of the day no longer held the promise of any comfort. 'Damn Potter straight to the Nine Hells! Just should have hexed him when I had the chance!' With that last curse, Draco stepped out into the chilly halls and headed out to face the day.


	2. 'Harry's Bad Day'

"All I Ever Wanted".....chap. 2 'Harry's Bad Day'

This day ranked high on the list of Harry's worst days ever. Maybe not as high as nearly getting killed over and over again, certainly not as high as detention with Umbridge, but pretty close. He stomped through the halls of Hogwarts on the way to Gryffindor's common room with an absolutely wretched headache tearing his skull open.

With every step, he cursed himself for getting so drunk the night before. He'd never really had Firewhiskey before, just a few Butterbeers. Seventh years were permitted certain luxuries, and Harry had almost no experience with luxury of any kind. A few drinks and all he remembered were blurry faces talking nonsense at him.

As soon as he had regained consciousness that morning, he had known that something was horribly wrong. He was naked, in a strange bed, someone was showering in the suite's bathroom, and clothes were strewn everywhere. On top of all that, his penis was faintly sore, the skin slightly chafed and red. Everything pointed to sex with someone he couldn't remember. Harry couldn't think of anything more humiliating or insulting than not recalling whom he'd slept with...wait...whom he'd had actual sex with! 

Damn it all! He'd known he was gay for over a year and still hadn't 'played the field' for a good reason. No matter how much he didn't want it, the wizarding world had made him famous, and all he'd ever wanted was to find someone who just liked him as he was...without all the baggage that came with his infernal scar. So he'd waited...and dated...and just never let anyone too close.

He'd imagined over and over again what it must be like to be in love, to just adore one person and know they felt the same about him. He wanted it to be perfect in every way; a perfect date, a perfect kiss and then, eventually, a first night of making love to someone for all the right reasons. All that was ruined and now nothing could bring it back.

Worst of all, making it a 'perfect storm', was that of all the people he could have had this accident with, it just had to be Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Slut. Aside from making five of their seven years at Hogwarts hell for Harry, this was the one gay boy in school with the kind of reputation that Harry desperately didn't want for himself.

Draco was as arrogant as ever, as vain and petty as anyone could be, mean spirited and vicious as hell, AND he coupled with anyone he pleased and flaunted his permanently unattached status even while guys fawned all over him. Admittedly, Malfoy had been better since sixth year...or at least quieter. He was still as acidic and cold as ever, but he seemed to put more effort into running Slytherin House, getting laid, and classwork than into pissing off Harry and the rest of Gryffindor.

In fact, as Harry mulled it over, it occured to him that Malfoy had bordered on nice near the end of this morning's nightmare scenario, and THAT was really unusual.

All the way to his home tower, memories of the morning flitted through Harry's head at random, dogging his every step. One thought that lingered over and over again was the moment that Malfoy had stepped out of the bathroom...only wearing a towel.

His skin had been as pink as a baby's after the shower, and his ribs were just barely visible on a perfect, slender chest. He had small pink nipples that only scarcely made themselves known, and in spite of being a bit on the thin side and half a head shorter than Harry, he had surprisingly broad shoulders and incredibly defined limbs with just a faint sheen of softness from good living.

Malfoy had faintly steamed when he'd stepped into the bedroom, with little wisps rising off his cooling skin. He really was as beautiful as his overinflated ego claimed. The tone of his voice had been cheerful and warm...until he saw Harry. Then he was Malfoy again...rude, spiteful, prat Malfoy. 

Harry stopped just outside of the common room entrance to Gryffindor and collected himself for a moment. It was all he could to keep his face from showing how miserable he really felt. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath...and that was when the flashback hit him. 

Lips against his lips; soft, pliant and patient, letting him find his own pace, his own time to push further, letting their tongues mingle. Alcohol blurred it, but when they parted for breath, the softest grey eyes he'd ever seen were staring back at him. So unbearably close to each other that the very air around them threatened to close in. There was no world, no room, no school...just a tiny universe of two made one...and a pair of grey eyes lambent with desire. Heat suffused them, like nothing Harry had ever known. A sudden warmth that made the world he had always known seem like a colder place than ever before. He wanted so badly, so frantically to be wrapped in that warmth forever...to pour the whole of himself into this person and never be cold again.

"Harry?" Someone was talking to him. Their voice seemed to rip through the fog around him and he found himself back in the hall outside Gryffindor...breathless, cold, and with a headache that was slowly getting seriously cruel. He blinked owlishly and found Hermione peering at him nervously.

"Are you alright, Harry? Is it another vision? Do you need a hand?" Hermione's hands already moved to his shoulders to steady him.

"No...nothing like that, luv...don't worry. I just had a little too much to drink last night. I'll score a potion off Finnigan and rest a bit. Be fine in a few hours, you'll see."

Harry smiled the best he could, it might be a train wreck of a day, but if there was one thing he was grateful for, it was friends like Ron and Hermione. Nothing seemed quite as awful when they were about. They'd been there for him when he finally came out. No grief, no distance, just happy for him that he was okay with it. Ron had even launched into stories about growing up with Fred and George 'experimenting' with each other so frequently that they almost had to be hosed off to separate them, and that had left Harry laughing so hard that he'd gotten a stitch in his side. 

"Right then," chirped Hermione, "...let's get in and see what Finnigan's got left in the way of hangover cures, trust an Irishman to lead the way after a wicked bender. You really, really shouldn't have touched the Firewhiskey, that's stronger than anyone needs. Yours isn't the only hangover in Hogwarts today. By the way, where ever did you get off to last night? You never made it back here from the party, and you know I worried a bit."

"Ummm...nowhere in particular, just staggered into an empty room and took a nap. Say...uh...'Mione? I didn't...you know...um...do anything embarrassing last night, did I? I don't remember all that much after the Firewhiskey got passed a few times."

Harry played it as cool as he could, but he was already feeling a flush coming on and he could feel sweat starting to bead on his upper lip...it was hard to keep anything from Hermione. Maybe it would pass as part of the hangover. Who would have guessed there would be a useful purpose for a hangover?

Hermione smiled, "Well, you staggered around a bit and you couldn't get a clear sentence out, but you seemed normal...considering how many shots you drank, that is. The most normal thing you did all night was that blowout shouting match you had with Malfoy. You two were yelling at each other right up until you stormed out. If it's any comfort, Malfoy was really sauced, too. Most of us couldn't even make out what you were shouting about but, since wands weren't drawn, we let it slide. Besides, he's been quiet since the year started, it wasn't worth the trouble and you held your own quite well."

"Oh...so that's all then? No dancing with a lampshade on my head or snogging strangers? Just a drunken row with Slytherin's favored son? That's good. Might as well head in then. I could use a cuppa and a spot of rest."

'I think she bought it, all is good, all is good, smooth as silk.' Harry felt relief wash over him. He had promised to keep silent if Malfoy did, but without any memory of last night, all he could hope for was a lack of witnesses to whatever had happened.

They marched into the common room, chatting idly about classwork and other post-party rumors and gossip, squeezed a potion out of Finnigan's dwindling supply, then soaked up a little tea together before Ron wandered in and completely occupied Hermione's attention. Neville and others passed in and out of the commons, dropping greetings and sympathy for Harry's fading hangover. Then Ron managed to get Hermione into 'snuggle' mode and Harry made a graceful exit, thankful for the chance to get to his own bed.

Seventh year dorms were spacious, and Harry had a shower to himself at last. Not that he thought of himself as shy, but people sometimes stared at him when his clothes were off, and as much as he thought he ought to enjoy that...well, it still rankled.

He knew he had nothing to be ashamed of...and more than a few other boys had made admiring comments about Harry's body...or sometimes, more specifically, one part of his body...but he'd never felt comfortable showing off or anything. Never minding other people's thoughts on the definition of manhood, Harry noticed that it could be a right nuisance at times. He'd spent most of his adolescence thankful he had robes on, since with anything tighter he'd have given the whole school a show every time he got 'the horn'.

Harry showered in silence, savoring the hot water sluicing down him and peeling away the last of his morning blues. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, even more so than normal, trying to clean away even the faintest potential memory of the previous night. When he finally emerged from the steam he felt a lot better. A hasty Drying Charm later, he was towel clad and ready for a short nap when he paused in front of the mirror. 

He supposed he was looking for a sign of change. Now that he thought about it calmly, he remembered that he wasn't a virgin anymore. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed kind of important. Like a milestone had passed. He couldn't pin it down exactly, but even with the stinging shame of last night's disaster he still felt...well...calm...amazingly relaxed...and just a little proud. 

Then he remembered Malfoy. That killed the calm in a heartbeat. As if seventh year had no pressures to start with! Bloody stupid Malfoy would be twice the prat as usual now. Just to prove some obscure point, he'd make Harry as uncomfortable as possible every chance he got. Still, if that was the worst his year had in store, it would rank as one of the better ones. Malfoy's scorn could be handled, and it was time for a short nap. Harry headed off to bed, hoping the rest of the day would go easy on him.

TBC


	3. 'Draco's Dreams'

"All I Ever Wanted".....chap. 3 'Draco's Dreams'

 

Draco lounged restlessly in the comfiest chair in Slytherin's common room. It was his chair by right of strength, and more than a few foolish younger Slytherins had been caught flirting with suicide by 'borrowing' his ersatz throne while he was out.

A few minor hexes usually kept it unoccupied for a few weeks until, lulled into a false sense of security, someone would try again. Couldn't blame them really, that being the 'Slytherin Way' and all. Always testing boundaries and looking for any sign of weakness. 

This, however, was no morning for testing Draco Malfoy. Blaise had been out of hangover cures almost since dawn. Draco was nursing a cup of tea and watching the room through nearly slitted eyes. His brow was wrinkled in concentration, pain and irritation. This was a fiendish bitch of a way to start a day off. 

Worse yet, Pansy had twigged to the fact that Draco had had SOME kind of fun the night before. She'd seen the faint wince Draco had made when he sat down, and drew her own conclusions. She'd started in mockingly, inquiring if he needed a pillow to sit on or just a few Numbing Charms for his overworked arse, and that's when the first curse flew.

'Better to get it out of the way quick,' Draco thought, otherwise he'd need to hex half the house...and he didn't have that kind of energy right now. At least she hadn't a clue who he'd been with! Apparently no one in Slytherin recalled anything out of sorts, except for a grand hissy fit by Potter at the party last night. Something Draco had said just stuck in Harry's craw, and it had magnified into a full-tilt insult free-for-all. As far as the other Slytherins were concerned, Draco had come out well ahead...just as always. Sweet Merlin, what a relief!

He couldn't even properly enjoy his afterglow. Potter might well be the most hopelessly insipid do-gooder in all of Gryffindor, but at least he had one talent...and a few extra inches where it counted most.

Draco had always savored the way he felt AFTER sex almost as much as the actual sex itself. It was true that he was a bottom through and through. It was true that he had really never hungered for any other sexual activity quite the way he loved receiving. Yet it was also true that he was very aggressive about his sex. He was in charge, no matter what the other twittering prats thought about poofs.

When Draco took a partner, it was to please himself, and he bent every iota of his being to reducing them to a shuddering, gibbering shadow of their former selves while he took his pleasure from their bodies. Even from the bottom he ruled them, and everyone of them had been damned lucky to even touch him.

The lingering discomfort after sex was a badge of honor to him, nearly a turn on in itself. More than once, he'd been at his horniest the day after a particularly wicked shag. The only thing spoiling this 'morning after' was a persistent headache...and Potter.

Bloody ignorant, scar-headed, git Potter. Even the simple pleasure of secretly enjoying his own soreness, and knowing that he'd earned it by rocking some poor boy's world, was trashed by the knowledge that Potter...POTTER, had been buried to the hilt in him and thrusting for glory. How galling was that? Most infuriating of all, was that the daft twit had probably been better at it drunk than most people were sober...and THAT was really nauseating!

"Draco?" It was Blaise behind him, his voice polite and soft as a consideration for Draco's condition.

"Yesss...?" Draco's voice dripped honeyed venom.

"I pulled a few strings, someone in Ravenclaw had some leftover hangover cures and I scored one for you. No charge...this time." 

"Blaise?! Charity? From you? How gauche! Not complaining though, I will remember to thank you for it... after it's worked." Draco sniffed the contents as soon as he opened it. Trust was a rare commodity in Slytherin, and Draco was no one's fool. It smelled right, and the first sip had the correct taste and consistency...so he downed the rest and felt the magic seep through him. The headache was already fading when he heard Blaise's comment as he walked away.

"No charge in cash...but you can work it off in trade anytime, sexy, that is...as soon as your bum feels better." 

"You're damned lucky, Blaise! I'm comfortable and I'm not budging...not even to hex you, and Pansy as well, for talking. Consider my thanks being the fact that you can PROBABLY sleep safe tonight!"

Blaise's nervous chuckle from the hall told him he'd at least kept up the pretense of being in charge of this morning's affairs. Even miserable and hung over, he could hold court in this house without breaking a sweat. Draco Malfoy ruled Slytherin House with an iron fist in a velvet glove. A soft statement here, a veiled threat there, blackmail, extortion, and every so often a well-aimed hex. When he said jump, everyone, save for a few recalcitrant seventh-years, asked how high. The few hold outs were respectful only out of fear of Draco's wrath.

Six years at Hogwarts had given Draco ample time to forge alliances, and by the time seventh year had started, he was the best connected and most influential student in school. Nothing came free. It was always an effort to settle minor disputes, smooth wrinkled nerves, dole out rewards and dish out subtle punishments. All this cut into his free time, but power was its own reward.

Draco scanned the room. Crabbe and Goyle were playing Exploding Snap with all the enthusiasm and none of the skill of a pair of first years. Bullstrode was scowling over an Advanced Charms text. Nott was lounging, with a small sheaf of homework, on one of the large couches that filled Sytherin's common room. A few underclassmen were watching a round of wizard chess that was passably well played. All was calm. This gave him a moment for reflection. 

It was back to the seventh year grind tomorrow. More homework, more tests, and a hundred possible things that might go wrong. What Potter didn't know was that Draco had made an edict concering inter-house dating for Slytherins, restricting any member of his house from having any kind of relations with any member of Gryffindor House. It was his most rigidly enforced decree. The last time a fourth-year got caught snogging with a girl from Gryffindor, the 'punishments' were so swift and regular that the poor boy developed insomnia and a mild tic from stress.

Not to imply that Draco was personally cruel...at least not in the sense of enjoying it, but weakness in a Slytherin was the ONLY sin. Better to be cruel...in measured doses...than to work even harder to prove his strength after damage had been done.

One slip and a fellow could fall from the top of the heap, right back to the bottom rung of the social ladder, and that was no place for a Malfoy. His family name was already tarnished enough. A father arrested for being a Death Eater...twice! Lucius was in Azkaban for life, and Draco had been left to pick up the pieces. 

He'd built connections here that would pay off for years, made deals that would put the Malfoy name back at the top of the heap. He wasn't risking that for anything or anyone...not even good sex...and that brought him back to Potter. 

As suddenly and disturbingly as the last one, another flashback struck him as he lounged.

The heat of breath on the back of his neck, while tiny bites and kisses were teasing their way around his throat. A strong hand was running through his hair and another was entwined with his own hand, clutching so tightly yet the pain was utterly ignored. He was moaning and crying out in the heat of orgasm, while the lithe body behind him kept a steady pace. Driving him...filling him completely. Even as Draco shuddered and exploded into the sheets beneath him, the pace of his lover never slackened. The heights of one climax passed without pause and the building of the next began. There were tears of ecstasy on his cheeks, and he felt no shame for them.

Draco's eyes were glassy when he snapped out of it. He quashed the disturbing memory quickly, then glanced around furtively to see if anyone had noticed his momentary lapse. No one had.

The hangover was gone, and for a moment he shuddered, realizing just how good he felt, now that he was free of his aching head. Now he knew with perfect clarity how he felt this morning. He felt light, free and utterly relaxed. It was a real effort to concentrate on maintaining his famous disdain. Fluttering in his chest was a growing sense of giddy cheerfulness that would make a Hufflepuff blush. He felt beautiful, wanted, sated, comfortable and admired. Three years ago, a tall, dark-haired Bulgarian boy had made him feel very nearly this good, then kissed him goodbye, never to be heard from again. 

When sentimentality overtook him, and this was always a brief and silent experience, Draco would wallow in a moment of self pity and idly wish for the things he knew he couldn't have.

All he'd ever wanted was to feel warm and safe and loved. To wrap himself around someone strong enough to carry him through the worst of days. To know that someone wouldn't turn their back on him when he needed them most. To be utterly certain that, no matter what came, one person would always be there for him, to hold him when he wanted the world to go away.

His father would puke knowing his heir was such a pitiful, disgusting creature. Lucius may have been a hopelessly arrogant idiot, but he was right about one thing. There were few certainties in the world, but one of them was the cruelty and undependability of others. 

Draco might dream of a world that was different, but dreams just don't come true. At the end of the day, it was on him to squeeze the little pleasures from life and stick to the duties that were expected of him. All the stupid dreams in the world wouldn't change that. 

With a little luck, these tidbits of memory would work their way out and be done with soon. Potter would keep his mouth shut and life could go back to normal. No harm, no foul. If the ingrate prat could keep secrets for the war against Voldemort, he could probably manage to keep this quiet.

The flashbacks would go away...had to go away. He only barely managed to quash the thought that the replay in his mind's eye had pleased him. Too much of that kind of thinking...well...no going where angels fear to tread.

Draco let out a faint sigh of resignation, stood as regally as a king in the midst of his court, and informed Crabbe and Goyle that they would be visiting Hogsmeade shortly. He'd finally gotten rid of the hangover, so perhaps a little largesse was called for...especially if it involved chocolate and shopping. 

No day, however difficult it may have begun, was completely beyond redemption if chocolate and shopping were still possible. He had money, minions, half a day off left, and an afterglow so wondrous that he felt like he was glowing even while his carefully schooled face maintained a look of bored contempt. If he couldn't make something of the day with a head start like that, well...he didn't deserve the name Malfoy.


	4. 'Harry's Relief'

"All I Ever Wanted".....chap. 4 'Harry's Relief'

 

Five days had passed since the 'incident', and at surface glance all was well, but if one were to scratch just beneath that surface, one would find a chaotic swirl of emotions nearly ready to boil over.

Harry had had no idea that, having finally had sex, his body and mind would crave it more than ever. Saying no to water was easy when you didn't understand thirst, but now every minute of every day was like a desert, and like a flickering mirage oasis, came the tantalizing image of Draco Malfoy, slowly driving Harry insane. 

Harry had thought the flashbacks would quit eventually, and he seriously doubted that Malfoy the Slytherin Slut was ever wracked by feelings like this. Harry had resigned himself to treating the whole incident as a painful lesson about the consequences of drinking, and he wanted to pretend it never happened. Maybe he could salvage his dream after all. Just carry that night with Malfoy to his grave.

It wasn't that easy though. In class, at lunch, in the library, at Hogsmeade...Draco appeared everywhere. Sometimes, Harry could feel those cloud grey eyes boring into him, and he would look about and find them, instantly breaking the connection as Malfoy turned away with a scowl or a disdainful sniff. Even when Malfoy was nowhere around, the visions and trickling memories of that night randomly interrupted Harry's concentration, and were the source of erections that positively ached. 

This had to stop. Harry couldn't make sense of it, and really didn't want to. Malfoy may not be a Death Eater, but he was a vicious little brute. Like a poisonous flower, all charm and sweet perfume...until you touched it and it destroyed you. Whatever idle fantasies that may have crossed Harry's mind were always ended with the certainty that they were just that...idle fantasies and nothing more...well...certainty AND an inordinately large spatter of come and a few gasping breaths while his vision swam. They could never, never, never be anything more.

Ron was a good mate, and hadn't made any complaints about Harry's dwindling attention span, but Hermione was noticing his slipping ability to concentrate in class...and she wouldn't buy his excuses forever. This had to stop. 

This morning's Potions class had been the worst yet, never minding Snape's usual loathing for Gryffindor in general and Harry in particular. Malfoy, for reasons known only to him, had decided to sit directly across from Harry with an evil smirk on his face. Harry had tensed up like he was on stage for all to see, sweating profusely and blushing for no apparent reason. It was all he could do not to run from the room, and even that would have risked exposing the nearly tent-like bulge under his robes!

He'd botched the ingredients for his and Finnigan's potion and melted the cauldron with the noxious mess he'd made of an only moderately difficult recipe. Snape's sarcastic drawl was still ringing in his ears.

"Oh, Potter, if you must grace my classroom with your illustrious presence...would it be too much to ask that you at least TRY not to mimic Longbottom's exploits? We haven't the need for them. Twenty-five points from Gryffindor for both you and Finnigan and detention for Potter tonight. You may clean all the cauldrons...that is, if you leave any surviving."

At least that incident killed off Harry's rampant erection, but Malfoy had been just to his left, choking back laughter so hard that tears almost trickled down his cheeks. He didn't even look that spiteful, just terribly amused. 

Shaking his head, Harry had left class with an air of hopelessness. When Malfoy passed him on the way out, so close to one another in the hall that they almost touched, the blond boy leaned in and Harry just barely heard the whispered comment. "Get it together, Potter, you're stronger than this and you bloody well know it." 

With that discreet comment and an evil smirk, Draco was around the corner and gone into the crowd before Harry could register what had just passed. Friendly advice...from MALFOY? Of course it was easy for a soulless mercenary like Draco to just brush things off. After the hundredth bloke they probably all blended into one mushy memory. If Harry was having a tough time of it...well...there were good reasons!

He wasn't sure if he wanted to yell or take it as a kindness. He stood quivering and pent up in the hall until he regained his composure. Most shameful of all, his erection was back and demanding attention. The sight of Malfoy's pale, slender throat, as he'd turned that hall corner and glanced back at Harry with eyes that nearly smoldered, had pushed Harry over the edge into the realm of visions and daydreams.

Draco's unnaturally lithe body was astride him, and those soft hands were in his hair, holding his face, running down his chest while that flawless body flexed and ground against him, writhing above him and pulling him into that waiting warmth again and again. Tears streamed down the blond boy's cheeks. Harry pulled him close and kissed them away, never so lost in pleasure that he didn't want to give more to this beautiful creature above him. When Harry's hands clutched that narrow waist and pulled his lover down, close and tight, Draco's body suddenly shuddered and with a strangled moan he spilled his seed onto Harry's chest. With a rolling movement, Harry was on top of the gasping youth, covering him in kisses, licking the sticky fluid from his just sated member, then sliding into that waiting body again. With a slow determination, he began the long, deep thrusts that seemed to drive his partner into the heights of ecstacy. A confidence possessed him like he'd never known. He was a living key and this...this was the lock he was meant for. Shining up at him were cloud grey eyes, almost glazed with desire, brimming with tears of joy and lust, and a smile that spoke of endless promises and a gratitude Harry had never imagined.

This had to stop. Like a thunderclap, it struck Harry, and he knew what he had to do. He was almost an Occlumens. He'd practiced for almost two years when he had the chance. There were two Pensieves in Hogwarts. One in Dumbledore's office...and one just a few hundred yards or so away. Snape's suite. A little time with the Marauder's Map and his Cloak, and he could draw the memories out entirely, not destroying them, just containing them so he could function.

It was brilliant! Malfoy (of all people) had been right! Harry was stronger than this, and he did bloody well know it! The cure was within reach and he was free for the weekend after the rest of today's classes and detention. Just use the map to see when Snape left and just make a visit tonight or tomorrow. Flawless! 

Harry took off down the corridor at a run. Advanced Charms was a few minutes from starting by now, and the rest of the day didn't look half as bad with relief only a day away.


	5. 'Draco's Salvation'

"All I Ever Wanted"..... chap. 5 'Draco's Salvation'

 

Harry Potter...Harry Potter...Harry Potter! Every way he turned it was Harry Bloody Buggery Sodding Potter! There was no escape from the awkwardness inflicted on him by that stupid, bumbling git.

Draco's first day after that disastrous morning had been quite acceptable. He didn't give a damn if Potter was in some way responsible for his good mood, he just reaped the whirlwind of contentment it happened to bring. Honeyduke's chocolates and Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks had topped a pretty fair day. Then came night, in his bed...alone, and that put an end to the easy time he'd had of it.

Agonizing dreams plagued him every time his eyes shut, memories taunting him like caresses. His mind's eye played havoc with his nerves every chance it got. Then there were endless surges of lust that left him sleepless and exhausted, no matter how many cold showers or masturbatory sessions he used to dispel the restless hunger gnawing at him. 

The next day had been sheer hell. Classes near Potter, Potter in the hallways, Potter in the library...everywhere he went they stumbled into each other. Instead of the traditional Malfoy disdain, he found himself turning to the little fragments of that night that echoed through his mind. Watching Potter's hand as he removed a book from a shelf...he could almost feel their warmth and strength clutching him. 

His eyes bored through Potter like diamond drills, searching for any acknowledgement of their night together. Meanwhile, Potter bumbled his way along flustered, stammering to his friends and flushing scarlet at random intervals.

The worst part was when he noticed Draco's gaze and met it. For a split second they were fused, locked on each other's eyes, burning with unspoken thoughts, connected by an almost electric force that snapped as soon they ducked their heads to keep others from seeing these unseemly little displays. And it kept getting worse. 

That cheery glow that had afflicted him hadn't dispersed by any appreciable degree, and it had been five whole days since the actual sex. What was wearing Draco down was the effort of maintaining his cool exterior. An effort that grew harder every day. 

Crabbe and Goyle were noticing the fact that Draco had been downright pleasant to them lately, not that they minded, and at least they could be trusted with the simple task of not passing rumors.

The other nagging concern was the fading soreness of his backside, which some might find a relief, but Draco found it to be a loss he was unpleasantly aware of. The discomfort was rapidly being replaced by a gnawing hunger that demanded satisfaction, an itch he could never have scratched alone. He'd been horny after the Bulgarian left, but those were the childish longings of an amateur next to this accursed and unholy state of desperate need.

Others were supposed to feel this for him! NOT...oh so very NOT...vice versa. It had been days and they felt like months. Self-discipline was something every Malfoy had in abundance, but that didn't make them any less human, and by Friday, Draco was feeling more human than ever.

As galling as ever was the brutal admission that one man was responsible for his condition. The flashbacks and memories and dreams all reminded him regularly. There was no way to dodge the cruel reality that Harry Potter wasn't a surprise dark horse in the running by accident. He had gone and broken all previous records the first time he'd left the starting gate. The bastard was a champion thoroughbred in a world of duffers and HE HAD ONLY HAD SEX THE ONE TIME!!! Spirit Of Salazar! What would he be like with a little training up?! IT BOGGLED THE MIND JUST TO THINK OF IT!!!

He couldn't believe his own memories. They were vivid remnants of a night of sex so searing that he blushed when he was alone and could afford the luxury. He remembered enough details not to question the results, but he couldn't remember the start. Some tiny shard of Malfoy dignity demanded that he find out what happened. Maybe he was the victim of a charm? Maybe someone else was to blame for this? If not Potter, then someone else, ANYONE else...just for the love of Merlin let there be a reason for this!

Yesterday he had broken down, as the need was too great to endure. Someone had to fill the aching void in him. He'd grabbed Blaise by his tie and dragged him off for a quick and savage shag. Blaise had been a fair shag in the past, for a presumably straight boy. He could always be counted on for a decent emergency shag, even though the only boy he'd ever done anything with was Draco.

When asked about his decision to have sex with Draco, despite being happily heterosexual, Blaise had once famously replied, "It was sex, and it was Draco... when it looks that good, no one quibbles over gender." Even so, this last time had been a disaster, despite a decent showing by Blaise. His hands were in the wrong places, he didn't kiss boys, and his lips never touched any part of Draco, especially not his neck. 

Blaise was handsomely hung, but downright average looking after Potter. Nothing he did satisfied Draco, and in the end it had just been a grand waste of time. Perhaps not for Blaise, who had never seen Draco quite so demanding before, but for Draco himself, it was just another bitter nail in the coffin of his sanity.

The icing on the shit-cake that had been his week had been today's Potions class. He'd meant to shake up the order in the Slytherin seating...that part was planned. He'd had no idea he'd wind up directly across from Potter. At that point, it had been too late for a graceful withdrawal, so Draco did his best to tough it out.

Potter had been pure comedy. Fumbling the ingredients, almost removing a finger while cutting herbs, green eyes nervously flickering to his left while sweat beaded on his brow and lip. Then there was the bulge that Draco knew to look for in his robe. That wasn't the product of any charm, unless it was applied hourly! Draco had savored the effect he was having on Harry and he knew it, but he just didn't care. 

When the cauldron melted and Snape chided Potter mercilessly, all Draco could do was shake his head and smile while he held back laughter. He hadn't had the heart to throw any clever comments Harry's way. In fact, all he felt was a vaguely amused form of pity. As they left the class, he watched Potter's dejected slump in the hall and threw the poor sap a little encouragement.

Besides, Potter needed to know that he was being too visible. It was time to tighten the screws and get this under wraps properly, before any consequences came their way. The part he hadn't controlled was the look on his face when he glanced back for a second. 

Potter had perked up after Draco's whispered words, and for just a moment he'd looked tall, strong and wickedly handsome in his robes. Draco had let his lust show through for just a second, and he knew Potter had seen it. Sloppy, just damned sloppy. If anyone else had seen that there would have been hell to pay!

This just had to be someone's fault, it had to be! If only he could recreate or remember that night fully... WAIT! He could recall that night! Occlumency would pull every memory from him for thorough examination. He could even contain the memories and get on with his life.

A little time with Snape's Pensieve and he would have his culprit for this horrifying condition. Then he could dispense a little Malfoy style justice and be done with the whole sordid mess! Salvation was at hand! He never should have doubted himself...Malfoys always rallied when the chips were down. If need be, he could share this little brainstorm with Potter...after letting him squirm for awhile. 

A little traitorous thought stole through his mind as he quietly rejoiced. What would it be like without those memories? Did he really want them gone? The best sex he'd ever had, erased from his mind and lost forever?! And most traitorous of all, the unkindest cut of all...was the bitter thought that just maybe...maybe it hadn't only been about sex. Those memories had been hard to cope with, but not because they were so hot. It was because there was a factor at play that had never been there before, an undiscovered element that was hard to pin down. 

The way those hands had touched him hadn't made him feel dirty, just desired, beautiful and treasured. Those lips had breathlessly offered respect, admiration and affection. Last were the eyes, those sweet and terrifying green oceans that looked at him with a need he'd never known.

No malice glinted back from behind those emerald depths, no cruelty laid in wait behind that handsome face. No false pretense, no petty lies and no judgements. The word almost made Malfoy gag, when he wasn't maudlin and alone, and the word was LOVE.

He'd felt loved. Loved in a way that made his heart leap in his chest. Loved not like a child, or an heir, or an asset, or even a favorite piece of ass. He'd felt loved in a way that only his dreams had ever claimed was possible, the way that he was taught was impossible in this world of sycophants and charlatans.

Even if it was only recalled in a few seconds of blurry memory at a time, it was the one thing he both completely feared and yet hungered after most desperately. It might just be possible that something like that was worth keeping, no matter what the cost. But why, oh why, did it have to be Harry Potter?!

Malfoy ground down his disobedient thoughts as ruthlessly as he ran his house. The stakes were too high, and Potter, well, no matter what Draco wanted for himself, Potter was a walking liability. Anything between them was too fraught with peril to even contemplate. It couldn't happen and that was all there was to it. This weekend he'd find Snape's Pensieve and do what had to be done to protect his standing and his family name.

His father had been right, though it galled Draco to admit it. The world left precious little room for love, and if he wanted any safety in this life, it would come from power and influence...NOT from emotional flights of fancy. The court was adjourned, the verdict was final...this madness had to end.


	6. Discovering

"All I Ever Wanted"... chap. 6 'Discovering'

Harry moved quickly and quietly through the halls of the castle with a skill born of long practice. His trusty Cloak was in place and the Map was in his hands. He'd slipped out of the seventh-year dorms with little difficulty, and made his way to the dungeons with dispatch.

Snape had left almost a half hour before, and Harry knew from the Order that it was for a meeting with Death Eaters. Snape might well be gone for hours, but Occlumency was exacting work and Harry needed every minute that could be spared.

With a little luck, he could contain his memories of that night without actually losing them. He'd just build a barrier around them that required effort to open, then he could finally enjoy nights unmarred by dreams that left him sweating, wrapped in rumpled sheets and sticky with his own release. A day without unwarranted erections nagging at him would be nice, too.

He had a crystal in his pocket, an amethyst of good quality, to act as a temporary reservoir for that one night's memories. This he could keep with him and key to open those memories only when wished. It was a technique he had practiced several times, but had never had to employ, and he was suddenly more thankful than ever for Dumbledore's insistence on Occlumency lessons.

As he moved through the empty halls with footsteps as soft as he could manage, he realized he was passing through Slytherin territory, and thought momentarily of Draco. Dreams and memories aside, Malfoy was definitely not the same loathsome prat that he used to be.

Harry didn't envy the way Slytherin House operated, and he knew full well that Malfoy had spent seven years in a den of vipers, over a year of it now without the power and influence of his father to protect him. That spoke of nerves of steel, a pretty admirable trait, if one didn't use it to abuse others. Harry had also idly wondered if he'd have been the same way, had the Sorting Hat made him a Slytherin...would he have treated people as Malfoy did? 

There had been moments this last week where Draco looked utterly different than Harry had ever seen him. Quiet, uncertain, and almost genuine. When Draco had spoken to him those whispered words after Potions class, there had been no hint of pettiness or sarcasm. In fact, it had almost felt like camaraderie.

It wasn't anything he'd brag of from the rooftops, but Harry had kind of liked the sense of shared knowledge that set them apart from everyone else. If he'd been feeling really candid, Harry would have admitted that the memories were a factor, too, and any kind of closeness to Draco Malfoy was looking better and better.

He was not, however, feeling candid at this moment. A few hundred yards and he would be at peace, then he could deal with all this in a rational state of mind.

The classroom door wasn't spelled, but the inner door to Snape's private office and the Pensieve were. The Pensieve was heavily warded as well, but Harry was one of only a few students with keyed access to it, and he didn't know of any others, but he was sure there must be a few other Occlumency students. Still, this gave him unprecedented access once he reached the inner suite. If he was careful, there would be no trace left of his activities.

He checked the Map again...not a soul was stirring, coast clear. With a few Unlocking Spells, he worked his way into Snape's private offices, quickly relocked the door and spelled it again. If anyone came within ten feet of the door, he'd know. 

Comfortably nestled in an alcove corner sat Snape's Pensieve. It was somewhat less ornate than Dumbledore's, but very nearly as old and much more heavily used.

Harry peeled back the hood of his Cloak and placed the amethyst at the edge of the basin. Wand in hand, he began the search for the last clear memory of the previous Saturday night. When, after some sifting, he found his memory drifting to the inter-house party, he paused and slowly drew the memories from himself to the Pensieve, stopping only when he reached the moment of his waking Sunday past.

Now came the part for which he'd steeled himself. Harry realized he hadn't breathed in almost a minute...and took a long slow draught of air into his lungs. Gazing into the Pensieve, Harry slowly let the memories flit through his mind, picking the details, however blurred by alcohol they may have been, from each moment. 

The party...Draco had been sneering per usual, and was in the middle of some crude comment about Gryffindor students in general. Harry had taken instant offense, and had thrown a string of barbed comments about the lack of worth inherent in anything spoken by a Slytherin.

The crowd of onlookers made it almost impossible for either Malfoy or Harry to back down without a serious loss of face, and within minutes it had degenerated into a drunken shouting match complete with pointed fingers and wildy waving arms. Harry had stormed out of the room with a final slurred assertion that Draco was "...as hopelessly cold, soulless and empty as your vicious bastard of a father."

At the Pensieve's edge, Harry flinched to think of himself saying such a thing...even to Malfoy. Anger and Firewhiskey had loosened his tongue that night...a twinge of shame hit him. No time for woolgathering, though, he had more to learn still.

In his memories, Harry had charged up a flight of stairs, dizzy, furious, and flushed from exertion that his intoxicated body couldn't register. He paused at the top the stairs, wobbling and winded, when he heard the footsteps behind him...and turned to find Draco Malfoy, red-faced, exhausted and livid with anger beside him. What followed was no part of any memory that had surfaced yet, and it burned into Harry's brain indelibly.

Draco had tears of rage and pain in his eyes when he reached the top stair, and he stood facing Harry while they gasped for breath. Half through a sob the words tumbled out. "Potter! I am NOT, and I will NEVER be my fucking father, you know-nothing arrogant PRICK! You think you know me, but you don't know anything, and you're too fucking lazy to care about anyone but your poor, put upon self! Did you mean that? What you said back there? You think I haven't got a soul? Then ask yourself this, you self-righteous, bloody prig!!! How could you make me hurt like this? Why am I even here talking to you now? ANSWER ME, GODDAMN YOU! AND TAKE IT FUCKING BACK!"

Harry was utterly taken aback; whatever state he'd worked himself up to, he wasn't a cruel person by nature, and even seeing Draco, of all people, reduced to tears by his actions, filled him with guilt. The anger drained out of him, leaving behind only an empty, aching tension and sickness.

The challenge Draco had uttered was ringing in his ears, and it was all he could do to stop trembling and speak.

"I'm sorry," he finally slurred, staring into Draco's blazing eyes, "I didn't mean it, and I take it back, I never should have said it to start. I was wrong, and I swear I never thought it would hurt you like that. Can you accept my apology? I understand if you don't...really...but I'd like it just the same...please?"

It was when Harry had turned to offer his hand that he'd drunkenly stumbled, and one foot slid down the top stair, leaving him tipping slowly, helplessly windmilling his arms, a second from a fall that could seriously injure or even kill a man.

A pair of hands grabbed the front of his robe and jerked him backwards violently, sending him sprawling into the hall, directly on top of Draco Malfoy. They lay there gasping, adrenaline-drenched, staring into each other's eyes, suddenly half sober from panic. 

A memory came to Harry that moment in the hall, one buried deep for almost six years. He hadn't understood it then, but it was painfully clear now. There had been a schoolyard fight between him and Malfoy, the simple kind of brawl boys get into now and again, but as they rolled and thrashed about in the grass something passed between them.

The cusp of adolescence had them in its grip, and for just a moment they had paused, panting, staring into each other's eyes, terribly confused by the heat they each felt. The first tinges of lust, unrecognizable at that tender age, had changed the subtle dynamics of a little wrestling for social dominance into a foreign thing that made their pulses race, their faces flush, and their stomachs knot. They stared...searching each other's eyes for a clue to what was happening, when they were swiftly pulled apart by Hagrid. 

Staring at Draco, finding those cloud grey eyes looking back at him, searching, half-hurt and half-hungry, brought it all back. He'd wanted him even then, just beneath the surface it had always been that. They'd been so young they hadn't known the words for it, but it had been true none the less.

If things had been just a little different, they would have discovered it sooner. Instead, they'd wasted years with lies and insults to fight what had always been lurking in their hearts.

Draco understood it, too. Harry could see the recognition in those eyes, Draco understood perfectly...and remembered. Before either managed a word they were kissing, a fumbling and awkward kiss that grew fiercer and more passionate with every second.

They were rolling in one another's arms, utterly out of control, then on their feet, pressing one another into the walls in a desperate, crazed need to be closer. 

Then came the fateful door behind them...once opened, they both crashed through it without hesitation or doubt, simply closing it behind them and then...all reason, all sense of anything but the all consuming desire for each other was utterly lost.

At that moment, the wards Harry had placed alerted him to the presence of another, and he had perhaps a minute or two at best to clear the Pensieve...he couldn't even get the crystal into use! He reeled his memories in as fast as he could, no time to properly cleanse the Pensieve after...just draw his thoughts back to himself, get the Cloak on, and withdraw to a corner quietly! 

He had only just made it to a quiet corner near the door, when the last Locking Spell was removed and the door squealed open. There, framed by the arch of the door, was the slender shape of Draco Malfoy, cloaked in black and looking haunted and tired, but weirdly radiant and beautiful, in the eerie half glow of Snape's dimly lit study.

Harry fought to hold his breath in, remaining covered in the corner nearest the door, as Draco relocked the door and set Warding Spells of his own to insure privacy. Then he turned to the Pensieve and, with wand in hand, began the same process that Harry had.


	7. Truth Hurts

"All I Ever Wanted" ...chap. 7 'Truth Hurts'

Draco stepped through the doors of Snape's inner study, aching with indecision about what he was undertaking. He'd left the Slytherin dorms under a very potent Notice Me Not Charm (which made the eyes of other people simply neglect to notice that he was there.) It wasn't foolproof, but few and far between were those who could see him...unless he did something very obvious and broke the spell.

When he'd left the Slytherin common room in a petulant huff, he had been exhausted from a night so restless from dreams that it had nearly qualified as no sleep at all. It had been followed by a day that was dominated by tension and self-hatred.

Even attempts to distract himself with masturbation had become futile, since Harry's face above him started to haunt every fevered daydream and fantasy he could conjure. Inevitably, each face and body subtly morphed into the one from his dreams, until he was clutching himself on the edge of orgasm and biting back the name of the one he wanted so desperately. 

At this moment, it was all he could manage to not turn around and leave the room, the school and this cursed obsession behind. What kept him here was the certain knowledge that no place was safe from what he carried in his mind...or from what he carried in his heart. This was what had to be done, before his facade cracked and every one he'd ever mocked or used got a glimpse of the weak and sorry creature he really was.

Draco was honest enough to admit that some things scared him. Death was a big one, serious injury or being crippled, too. The one thing he truly feared with all his heart, more than any physical pain, was rejection. The thought of being cast aside, unwanted, unneeded, alone and friendless. This terrified him in a way nothing else could. He couldn't risk the loss of his status (the one thing that made his hellish sense of loneliness bearable) for Harry or anyone else. So it came to this...Snape's study, a Pensieve, and Draco Malfoy in the middle of the night. So be it.

Draco made his preparations, then began to search his own mind for the night in question, floating backward in time in short leaps and pausing for reference every few seconds. Soon he had the night of the party in focus. He wasn't prepared for he what he found. Not in the slightest. 'No charms? No hexes? Nothing...bloody nothing?' he thought to himself as he moved through that evening's surreal and whiskey fuddled memories. 

Then came the argument with Harry. Draco knew he'd been drunk that night, but it was still strange to see himself so out of control. Harry had made him tense from the start, just by being there, and to compensate, Draco had run his mouth (nothing new there, either), but Harry's reaction had been fiercer than any before. 

Draco knew it had been the alcohol that made them both so reckless, but he heard in his mind that last horrible comment Harry had uttered before leaving the room in a rage. Draco saw himself standing there, red-faced and stuttering with rage, for almost a minute before he'd charged after Harry with tears already forming in his eyes...(and thank Merlin he'd fled before others had seen those!) 

There was a brief and blurry maze of halls and stairs before he caught up to Harry, who looked like a thundercloud trying to hold in the rain. Draco watched the Pensieve in horror as he saw himself break down in front of Harry Potter! What really hurt was seeing the green-eyed devil look at him that way, full of sorrow and guilt, and then APOLOGIZE...of all the nerve! 

Draco's heart leapt when he saw Harry almost fall...those were his own hands reaching out and snatching Harry's robes, his body straining as he yanked the boy to safety with every thing he had. A tumble of bodies...and then HE KNEW.

Draco remembered everything...he was so lost in the Pensieve he was scarcely conscious of the hot tears sliding down his cheeks. So much was clear to him now, they'd both been children, but the rivalries, the strutting and name calling...all of it. Just a pretense...a show to cover what they hadn't been able to put a name to.

They'd looked at one another then...and wanted each other so badly it had hurt to think of it. It had slipped through their fingers; a missed chance at happiness and friendship and so much more, all because they'd started off so terribly wrong. Then they had striven for years to crush any remnant of that tender moment from their minds, rather than admit it had been there all along. 

Draco watched numbly as the images moved before him. The first mad kisses, the peeling away of clothes that suddenly constricted, the whispered promises and apologies...all of it. He watched to the end, every second.

He watched a beautiful, gentle and talented man make love to him with a passion that could never have been faked. He saw himself abandon any pretense of control and offer himself up, laboring not to be pleased, but to please someone else who was worthy of the gift they were being offered. He saw the rewards of experiencing real passion play out before him...again and again and again. That night had been unlike any before it, and it bore no resemblance to the petty little encounters that had dominated Draco's sex life for years. Everything he had ever done paled in comparison to this...this outpouring of absolute desire.

Harry had been patient as well as skillful, not because of some supernatural inborn talent or petty magical charm, but because he had been striving with every touch to show that he cared.

His body may have been beautiful and his erection huge and unflagging, but it was his magnificent soul that shone so brightly through it all, ripping apart the walls that Draco had labored his entire life to build around a fragile heart, and bringing light and warmth to every dark place in Draco, like a living sun that seared away any shadow it touched.

When the last of it played before his eyes, two exhausted lovers wrapped in one another's arms, weary smiles on utterly replete faces, Draco quietly spelled the memories back to himself, knelt on the cold flagstones before his trembling limbs could fail, and began to weep. 

A lifetime wasted fighting this? A hundred meaningless and empty fucks to avoid this? His asshole of a father would have been so proud! The irony struck him like a knife twisting in his chest.

Draco wept softly at first, just small gasps and whimpers, then deeper, with sobs that wracked his chest and tears that burnt and streamed down until his hands and collar were soaked, until he was no longer conscious of his dignity when he began half-laughing sickly cries at himself and the sham of his life. He didn't care that snot was running down his face or that he had curled into an almost fetal ball as he wailed and keened.

How sickening, to think that, until now, he had tried to tell himself that his life was a good one. Etched into his memory, and burned into his dreams, was uncompromising proof that he had lived a pathetic lie, and robbed himself of every chance at real happiness. There were no illusions left to hide behind, and the truth hurt him in a way that nothing else could have. 

He thought he had made some cruel error with the Pensieve when he felt those dreams hands stroke his hair and face, then felt his head gently cradled in a lap, felt his salt-drenched cheeks gently kissed...until he sniffled and squeezed open blurry eyes to look up into twin green oceans that offered only peace and solace. Harry. Harry's eyes were brimming with tears, too. 

Draco couldn't find his voice...all that he could manage was a harshly croaked, "Why?!" He knew his own tears well, but why was Harry crying? 

The answer came softly, but with a sincerety that struck like lightning through Draco's entire being. "For you." 

Draco collapsed into another torrent of tears, unashamed of his loss of control, clinging tightly to Harry's legs while letting go of pain he felt like he'd carried for ten lifetimes...and Harry sat there, a rock of patience, against which the storm of Draco's sorrows crashed time and time again, until at last the fury was gone and all that was left in it's place were two boys on cold stone, warm and safe only because they were in each other's arms, all they ever wanted made suddenly real.

It was Draco who sensed his Warding Spell broken, and he knew who it must be. Clarity struck him and he whispered to Harry with wide and frightened grey eyes, "Snape!" 

Harry understood perfectly, put a finger to Draco's lips and drew his Cloak over both of them. Harry lifted Draco in his arms and carried him, Cloaked and silent, to the edge of the door, just before it opened. 

Draco reveled in the way he felt at that moment, held close, warm and safe against the chest of someone strong enough to carry him when he could go no further.

As Snape stepped into the room, they slid out like ghosts, quickly leaving behind the classroom and moving down the hall to a place where they could be together in peace.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus Snape was bone tired, but before he could rest, one thing was left to do. Meetings with Death Eaters were grueling for him, often involving torture and mental coercion before he was trusted in their presence. A lifetime of spying had made him a thorough, exacting and cautious man who took nothing for granted.

Though he wanted his bed, this must be done first. Memories of the meeting had to be safely recorded for inspection by the Order. In the unlikely event that something happened to him between now and morning, every detail needed to be safely stowed in the Pensieve for the cause.

Lily would have wanted this of him. Lily who died for his failures...Lily who still haunted him even after almost eighteen years. He would keep going as long as he had to, if it would destroy the creature that took her life, even if it cost his own. 

He stood before the Pensieve, wand at ready, when he sensed something amiss, stray thoughts left in his Pensieve?! He tensed instantly, cast a Revealing Charm upon the room only to find nothing, and quickly warded the room to a fare thee well. Once secure, he scanned the Pensieve. Sifting slowly and with great care he isolated the stray thoughts...then viewed them. 

His every muscle stiffened as he blanched white as a sheet. He lifted his tired head, as if to implore the heavens for an explanation, then lowered his shoulders in defeat and did what he knew must be done.

First he cleared the Pensieve of foreign thoughts...thoroughly! Then he placed the new memories of this night's meeting into the Pensieve. Severus walked to his desk and rifled through the drawers for what he required.

Seated and comfortable, he penned a pair of notes, then, with a deep breath, he raised his wand to his head and calmy uttered, "OBLIVIATE".

Confused and blinking, Severus looked to his desk and found a note in his own writing, clearly written to himself. This was not surprising in itself, as the rituals of spycraft were very familiar to him. He read the note carefully.

"Severus, it was necessary to Obliviate yourself of a memory so foul and repugnant that the only way to preserve your own sanity and competence was to swiftly expunge it. I cannot risk revealing more, suffice it to say that it was necessary. To ensure that no trace of this absolute horror remains, it is imperative that you first destroy this note, then use the spell again." 

Satisfied, Severus dropped the note into a cauldron and burnt it to ash. Then he raised his wand again and uttered the necessary spell. "OBLIVIATE".

Blinking and terribly muddled, more tired than ever, Severus looked at his desk and saw the remaining note. With a concerned glance he read it. 

"Severus, you have had a truly trying day. It was necessary to Obliviate yourself twice, have a cup of tea with a few drops of Soothing Potion and go to bed. Your work is done for tonight. PS...Punish Potter with extreme prejudice. Find a reason. Any reason, just do it."

With a sniff of disdain, Severus Snape rose from his desk and headed toward a long deserved rest.


	8. Anything For This

"All I Ever Wanted"...chap. 8 'Anything For This'

Harry held the curled form of Draco Malfoy against him as he climbed a secret staircase. It led to a quiet and familiar place on the sixth floor, the very one that he and Draco had discovered a week ago. It was surreal, holding the sniffling boy in his arms as he climbed.

Harry thought that Draco should feel heavier, and yet it seemed so easy to carry him, as if this was a burden he had waited a lifetime to bear. Harry was almost painfully aware of the soft cheek that was nuzzled into the side of his neck, and some part of his conscious mind was trumpeting over and over again...'What are you doing?! That's DRACO MALFOY you're holding!!'

If anyone had told him that this was what he'd be doing Saturday night...well, he would have laughed himself sick. Yet here he was, carrying Draco in his arms, filled with a sense of peace and purpose.

They had reached the sixth floor when the head on his shoulder lifted to his ear and spoke..."It's okay Harry, I can walk, but thank you." Draco's voice was ragged from crying, but sounded sure, so Harry carefully let Draco's legs down. 

He still had his arm draped protectively around Draco, half afraid that if contact was broken, even for a second, this wonderful peace he felt would vanish like mist. Harry peeled away the Cloak with one hand and threw it over his shoulder, then looked into Draco's red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Draco, we really need to talk...do you trust me?" He offered his hand and Draco took it without hesitation. 

"Yes, Harry." It sounded so demure that Draco was momentarily ashamed, then he realized he just didn't care anymore. Not here, not now, not with Harry next to him holding his hand. This is how he'd always wanted to feel and he wasn't going to waste this moment like he'd wasted so much of his life. Impulsiveness was not the Slytherin Way, but the dark-haired youth before him was a lifeline to everything he'd ever thought was impossible...and Draco wasn't letting go for anything. 

Harry led the way, and a couple of landings later they emerged only a few hundred yards from their destination. Draco stiffened with apprehension for a moment, recognizing the hall and door where all this had started, then decided he didn't care what did or didn't happen as long as it involved Harry. 'God! He's Harry now. He'll never be Potter again. Not after this. Everything...everything is different. And I want it that way!'

They entered the room quietly, and as soon as the door was closed, Harry set Spells of Locking and Silence. When he felt sure they had privacy, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked expectantly at Draco, who immediately followed suit and sat beside Harry, though he fidgeted nervously and was still wiping his nose and eyes with his sleeve.

Harry spoke first, desperate to kill the silence, "I've got an awful lot I want to say, there's so much I feel like I'll explode because I can't get it all out fast enough. If there's anything you want to ask me...well...I'll give you answers before I give you a big speech. Is that okay?"

Draco looked up, smiling a bit sheepishly, "Why were you there?"

"Probably the same reason as you, it's been...difficult...this week...you know...ever since Sunday. I just had to know what happened, all of it, and I hoped I could store it and control it. You showed up and tripped my wards, and I couldn't get out in time. After I saw you at the Pensieve, I knew it didn't matter anymore, I knew I wanted to keep those memories and learn to live with it." Harry's response wounded Draco just a little.

With a pained wince, Draco looked more than little ashamed of himself. "I was going to erase it...all of it. I couldn't stand it anymore. I haven't slept right in a couple of days now, and I've thought of you a lot lately. When I saw everything, well, it all came out at once. There are a lot of things I need to say, too. I was right that night, you know? You really don't know me...but I never told you how much I wish you did." 

This new honesty was very taxing for Draco. It made his chest feel terribly tight and his breath catch in his throat, but with every blatant truth he shared, he felt a little freer, a little closer and more comfortable with Harry. Right now he couldn't imagine anything he wanted more than that.

"Did it come back to you in pieces...like visions? It did for me, I think I just have more practice feigning indifference than you do. Please don't think I'm proud of that," he added in a hushed tone, almost plaintively. Draco's face was burning. It made him horribly uncomfortable to realize that he was blushing...BLUSHING, like a complete Hufflepuff, in front of Harry Potter!

"Yeah..." Harry sighed, "all week long. Different things at different times. I wanted to tell you a hundred times that what I remembered was...well...pretty amazing. But I promised silence and I was keeping it."

Draco chuckled softly. "Believe me when I say I understand. I've been biting my tongue all week, and not because there were insults lined up to get out! At least Slytherin helps you build a poker-face...your face was shouting things to me that I couldn't answer in public. I wasn't sure if I should laugh, yell at you, or just run like hell to keep from falling apart. You should know one other thing, too...amazing isn't even NEAR a good word enough to describe what we did together, and I ought to know! I...I'm ready to let you say whatever you want...if you'll just tell me one thing first. Do you want...I mean can we...ARGH! Fuck all! Merlin, is this hard...can we be...together?"

It took everything he had to get the words out, and Draco was tensed from head to toe waiting for an answer. His head was even cast down, eyes boring through the stone floor, so his face wouldn't show his feelings if the answer was no.

"Draco...there are a few things I really have to say before I can answer that, but if it would make it easier for you to know what I want...then yeah...I don't know how we could do this and not make the rest of the world go crazy...but I really, really want to try. More than anything I've ever wanted I want to know you, and it's just so...new...I have trouble saying it. Is that good enough for a start?" Harry's eyes were practically begging, and his voice was thready with tension when the lean blond he'd been pining over all week crushed him in a hug. 

Muffled by Harry's collar, Draco's voice was still fairly clear. "YES! You can say anything you want, as long as you want. I want to hear everything you have to say, just as long as it's going to end with me being with you!" 

Harry didn't know it, but Draco really wasn't the same person he thought he'd known for most of seven years. At this moment, Draco was almost intoxicated with the sense of relief that came with finally being himself, and it was showing in his words and his actions.

Seven years of rigidly controlling his every act or word had left him ill prepared for appearing composed while simultaneously letting his guard down. Draco felt the surprise and shock in Harry's body language and pulled back to give Harry some free space while he talked, all the while wearing a contented expression reminiscent of cat that had just found a limitless supply of cream.

Harry took a deep breath and started in. "Okay, Gods, where to start. I can't speak for you...but I know I saw things in the Pensieve that made me feel like I woke up from a really long bad dream. I...I'm sorry about everything that went wrong between us, there's so much I wish was different I can't even begin to list it all. I know I don't know that much about you, even less than I thought as it turns out. I need to start learning now, and it might take a little while to catch up after wasting seven years.

I've spent a lot of time with no one to share my thoughts with, and maybe I'm not that good at sharing them, but I really wanna try. I'm scared half out of my head by all this, mostly because it started before you or I had any real say in it. Now we're just trying to figure it out. Most of all, and this is what I hope you understand, there's something I need from you, something that might be hard for you to give, or not...I just don't know. 

Draco, I always dreamed about something like this, I just didn't think it would happen so fast, and no offense, but I sure didn't expect it to be with you. What I want...is for us to just date...you know...like boyfriends, just for a while before we do anything else. I wanted my first time to be perfect, something I'd remember forever, and it meant a lot to me.

Draco...if we could take that night, and make it disappear, I think I'd still want you to be the first. What I'm asking for is kind of hard, and we'll have to be careful and all of that, but could you make that come true for me? Just a little time to get to be comfortable with you...and then one perfect night, one I could call my first and not need magic to remember, because it really was magic on its own?" 

Harry had gotten his speech out, and was almost gasping for breath. He had watched Draco's eyes intently throughout, and they had reflected his own worry and confusion, but they looked peaceful and resolute now.

Draco found the answers on his tongue without even thinking, words just flowed from the core of his being directly to Harry. "I can do anything for this, to feel this way, to be near you...whatever I have to do...I can do it. Harry, I'm not ashamed of what I've done with my life, mostly because I never even thought feeling this way was possible. If I'd known...well...things might have been different, but that was my life before and this is my life now.

I've been sick of wearing a mask for longer than you can possibly know, and now that I know what it's like to feel this way I don't think I can ever go back. If you want a dream of yours to come true...and you want me to be in it, then yes, I'll do it...because you already made mine come true. I owe you that much and a lot more. 

I'm...I'm sorry, too...about the way things were before. There's a million things I want to tell you, but we'll have time for all that. What I have to say right now is...I know you think I know all about this stuff, but I don't...not really. This isn't like anything I've ever done before, and it scares me, too. It scares me because, I've never...I mean I haven't...Harry, how do I...I...FUCK!...ithinkicouldfallinlovewithyou!!!!" 

Draco's breath was short and his eyes were tearing without control. Harry looked stunned and happy and worried all at the same time. "I'm alright, I've just...never said that before. I have to ask though, this waiting and dating thing...I know I can do it, but can you hold me...can we kiss? I just feel like I need this so badly...there's no words for it. If I can touch you, I can make it as long as you need me to. Is that okay?"

Harry didn't answer with words, they had already said everything that needed to be said. He leaned forward and pulled Draco into his arms, leaning back onto the bed until they were lying on their sides, nose to nose. 

The kiss that followed wasn't fumbling, wasn't fueled by alcohol or half-forgotten dreams and wasn't tainted with the remains of past angers. It flowed as naturally as the water of a spring, spilling from each of them without effort, lips gliding comfortably together, soft tongues gently prodding into mouths that were equally hungry and, though their pulses raced and their loins ached, it went no further than that.

Neither of them wanted to sully the innocence of that kiss, or in any way steal from that moment its chaste perfection. Some things truly are worth waiting for. In time, they drifted into slumber, more peaceful than either had had in some time. Draco was curled in the crook of Harry's arm, his head resting on Harry's softly rising and falling chest.

Even in his sleep, Harry was unconsciously holding close to himself the one he so suddenly cherished more than anything, while Draco slept with a peaceful sense of safety he hadn't felt since he was a small child, utterly unaware of life's cruelties, a wide and guileless smile drawn across his face the whole night through.


	9. Aftermath

"All I Ever Wanted" ...chap. 9 'Aftermath'

Not surprisingly, Draco woke first, suddenly and joyously aware of the strong arm around him and the still clothed and wonderfully warm body behind him. This time he knew exactly who it was, and he reveled in that knowledge silently.

The night before this, his life had been defined, planned, and full of certainties, none of them pretty. Today he woke free of his past, if only for a short while. In this bed, in Harry's arms, he felt like he could breathe easier than ever before. It was like an anvil had at long last been lifted from his chest.

Draco wrestled with the notion of getting out of bed and at least cleaning his face, which was crusted with the evidence of last night's total meltdown. Then he decided that a bed with Harry in it held the greater attraction to him.

The day was probably well under way for the rest of Hogwarts, but as far as Draco was concerned, all that mattered at this moment was hanging onto this tiny snippet of heaven just a little longer.

Harry's soft breath was on the back of his neck and, now that Draco was awake enough to be conscious of it, an erection was beginning to stir under Harry's clothes. If they'd been standing, the sensation would have made Draco's knees weak. As it was, he could only try to ignore the stirring of his own genitals and hope to the heavens that Harry really hadn't intended for TOO long a time to pass before they could have sex again. 

Draco idly worried at his sudden clinginess. It was a new sensation for him and he wasn't sure he liked it. He'd always prided himself on the ability to stand alone, needing no one. Now he knew that it had been nothing more than a pose he'd struck to survive the last seven years.

The remnants of his once implacable pride demanded that he conduct himself with a little more reserve. Meanwhile, the newly awakened parts of him railed against the idea of keeping even the fallen shards of his old life.

He winced at the thought of his life before last night. This was a wonderful place to wake up, but outside the doors waited a world that had not changed overnight, regardless of how much Draco had. 

Slytherin House couldn't know what he was doing. One mistake and they'd run him out of there without a second thought. If he was going to date Harry, it would have to be done with the utmost of caution. 

His classwork was easy for him. He wasn't quite Hermione Granger, but he was very nearly as gifted as she was. With their classes scattered about the building, the probability of little dates between classes was slim at best. He'd have to make arrangements after classes were out each day.

The sentimental side of him hinted that this room deserved some fixing up...especially since it had witnessed several momentous events in his life. Perhaps it would make a good rendezvous point in the days to come...with a little work.

With the right charms and a little careful misdirection he could probably see Harry every or every other night. That thought brought a contented smile. If he could feel this way just for a little while each day he could make it through waiting for anything more.

Harry began to stir behind him. He could tell by the interrupted breath on his neck and the soft yawn that followed. Draco idly stroked his fingertips down the arm that was draped across his chest, occasionally pausing to softly kiss the crook of Harry's elbow. He tilted his head and looked at Harry's face, only to splash into the big green pools that made up his eyes. 

In truth, they seemed a lot more normal without the glasses, except that their intensity and seriousness hadn't been diminished at all. Harry broke into an enormous grin and leaned directly down into a waiting pair of lips. When they parted for air, Draco managed to blurt out, "Good morning, Harry." Then he gave back in to the temptation to stay lost in those lips for awhile.

Harry's only muffled reply was a sincere "It really is, luv." Draco's heart lept faintly when he heard the word 'love'. Coming from Harry in ANY context it felt like music, like poetry that overwhelmed his senses.

When a few minutes had passed Harry worked his mouth down to Draco's neck and finally broke away after a few playful nips. "I hope you'll forgive me if I don't know any etiquette for waking next to you, but I desperately need a trip to the loo." Harry confessed, chuckling.

"By all means, don't let me keep you, bedwetting isn't sexy." Draco bantered, loving the strangeness of the moment and treasuring every second.

Harry clambered out of bed in his rumpled clothes, made a quick dash to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Not that it left anything to be imagined, since it sounded like a firehose had been aimed at a teacup even from where Draco was lying.

When Harry finally emerged, Draco leapt out of bed for his turn with a quick comment about needing a little freshening up with a shower. Harry just ran his hands through Draco's spiky mess of blond hair and kissed him soundly. "I'll be right here, alone with my thoughts...all ten million of them. Enjoy." 

Draco stood in the bathroom for a moment, looking into the mirror. What a difference a week can make, he mused. The boy who stood looking into this mirror a week ago might as well have been from another world. Resisting the urge to go maudlin, Draco promptly laid his thoughts to rest with a last saucy thought. 'I may have been from another world, but thank all the gods I'm still unbearably sexy!'

He quickly peeled his school clothes off and moved to the shower. A few moments to let it heat properly, and he was comfortable beneath a steaming torrent of water. The tears of last night were rinsed from his eyes and he felt absolutely sublime. 

Then he realized he still didn't have his grooming products with him and he cursed his luck. He'd have to work a few Shrinking Charms and find a way to carry a few of them about his person at all times. At least then he wouldn't have to endure privation every time he slipped away for the night. He could be properly ready whether an evening away from the dorms was planned or not. 

He finished as quickly as he could. This time he had his wand handy for a few hasty Drying Charms, as well as a seperate Scourgify to cleanse his tear-drenched robe sleeves. He sauntered back into the bedroom with an air of contentment, only to find a smirking Harry lounging on the bed, next to a large tray full of food. Toast and marmalade, kippers, a few cheeses, and best of all sweet rolls and a pot of tea. 

Draco spluttered for a moment, utterly taken aback by Harry's non-chalance, and just before he could even frame a proper question, the big prat answered it with an unbearably sweet smile.

"I didn't actually know what you like for breakfast, so I had some friends in the kitchen bring up a nice mix. You like?" 

Somewhat mollified, Draco dived into the sweet rolls and tea. After a few bites and enough tea to swallow with, Draco finally grilled Harry about how he managed to acquire breakfast in bed in less than ten minutes. He was astounded to learn that the house-elves of Hogwarts were discreet Harry Potter fans, and would pull a favor if Harry asked nicely. For results like this (especially sweet rolls!), Draco had to admire Harry's knack for drawing people to him. 

Determined not to let too much of his sappy, treacle-sweet urges show, Draco simply stuck his tongue out at Harry and coyly stated..."You are quite the gentleman, Harry! We haven't even had a first date and I've already gotten breakfast in bed."

Harry blushed, "I just want you to be comfortable, plus it's almost eleven o'clock and I didn't want you to have to leave right away if you were hungry. I like this, just so you know, waking up with you and all. I don't think I've ever felt this nervous and this comfortable around anyone at the same time. It's...well...it's really nice. I just don't want it to end yet." 

Harry stood and stretched, then shook off his rumpled robes and announced he was off for a quick shower. All the while Draco watched him with a weird intensity.

Just before Harry closed the bathroom door Draco called out to him, "Love?" 

"Yes?" Harry looked back, almost on fire with tension and an eagerness to please.

"We should make some plans when you get out, but thank you for thinking of me." 

Harry blushed just a little and looked at the floor while he answered. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure...really." Then he shuffled nervously into the bathroom. With a goofy grin still stuck on his face, Harry closed the door and got on with his shower. 

It was deeply confusing, pleasing alright, but still strange being cared about by anyone. Draco had been served by many, and when he was honest about it he knew it had never been out of anything but fear or lust. 

In the room next to him was a man who could have sex if he wanted it, but wanted to know Draco first. A man that comforted him at his worst and then desired nothing in return. A man who actually tried to think of Draco before himself...without the need to offer a bribe or extort compliance out of him. These things were completely foreign to him. It was hard to believe Harry could be human and still be that basically good. 

Resolve crept through him as he listened to the splashing sounds from the shower. Draco had never really put any stock in prayer, but for one second he closed his eyes and turned his head upwards to address the heavens. He sent his silent prayer like an arrow aimed at the sun.

"Please, please, please don't let me hurt him. I know I fucked up everything else, but I'm just starting at this and I need all the help I can get. Just don't let me ruin this, too." He couldn't know if any god or goddess heard or cared, but just this once he felt like he had something worth praying for.

Harry enjoyed his shower as thoroughly as he could. His mind had been racing since the moment he woke. It was surreal, that was it...surreal, to wake up next to Draco Malfoy. Especially a cuddly, sweet Draco Malfoy. 

One night could change a lot, but this was almost more than Harry could take in. The reality of this was settling in fast. Harry's life had suddenly become an even more complicated thing than before. He was going to be Draco Malfoy's boyfriend! That thought made it instantly worthwhile. 

Harry rinsed the last of the soap and shampoo off and stood for a moment, just soaking up the knowledge that, in the next room, was a whole different person from the one he had known for six years...and he wanted that person badly. More than he'd ever wanted anyone before.

He'd made a promise to himself that he'd wait and start this relationship off the way he'd always dreamed, but the reality of Draco in the next room was another thing entirely. Beautiful, smart, sassy, sweet and sexy as hell! How was he going keep his hands to himself until the right time came? His erection had never completely faded and if he didn't take care of it before long, he'd lose his self control...soon!

Grudgingly, Harry wrapped his right hand around the head of his penis and began the slow gestures that would soon bring him relief. His mind flickered with images of Draco. That pale and slender neck that begged to be nibbled on. Those pale grey eyes that looked at him with such hunger. The narrow waist that drove him crazy whenever Draco wasn't covered by robes. Most of all, the recent memory of those lips on his and that delicate little tongue that teased Harry so effortlessly.

It didn't take long, as pent up as Harry felt, until he was tensed and shuddering as white blobs spattered to the floor of the shower and drained away. Feeling spent and relaxed, at least for the moment, Harry shut the water off and stepped out. A quick Drying Charm and a minute to dress and he was ready for the weird and wonderful life waiting for him just outside the door. As long as it held the promise of curling up around Draco it had to have a happy ending.

They curled around the platter of food between them and ate in silence, pausing for kisses every so often. As the food vanished, the need for a plan grew, so they finally piled together in a nest of pillows and blankets. 

Draco took the lead, feeling unusually confident. "At the least, secrecy is called for...just to stay safe. Believe me, Harry, it's not because I want to hide this or you. Actually I kind of want to sing it aloud from the rooftops, but Slytherin House can be...well...unforgiving, and even some of Gryffindor can get a little over excited about things like this. Are you okay with keeping this on the sly?"

"No worries, I understand perfectly. I'm kind of nervous about telling anybody, too. Especially Ron, I love him like a brother, but I don't want to be responsible for him popping a vessel when he hears this. Even so, I want you to know I'm committed to this, and if you'd have me, I want to be able to say I'm your boyfriend, even if it's only to you."

Draco paused a moment, almost flushing scarlet, "I've never been anyone's boyfriend before. Harry, I know this is new territory for both of us, and I'm almost sure I'm just as nervous as you are, but I have to know...are you okay with my past? I mean, I really do have a reputation that comes with my name, and secrets won't last forever. Do you think you can handle that when it starts being a problem?"

"I can handle it, I don't care who you pretended to be, I only know the person in front of me amazes me over and over again. Until last week, I'd never have thought I could feel this good sitting here talking to you. I don't even care how many people you slept with...or hexed, I just need you, the real you, and that's something I'm betting only I've ever seen. If you look at it my way, I might as well be your first, or at least I will be when I've had enough time to get to know you."

Draco collapsed back into Harry's arms with a huff of relief. "Thank Merlin you think that way Harry, a lot of people don't have it in them to look at anything but the surface. When it comes to keeping our cover, I may have to be insulting...at least a little...and only when there are Slytherin students around. I don't even know if I can still do it, Harry. Something broke in me last night, and I woke up knowing it would never be the same again. If I can't do it, I mean keep acting like I did, people will figure this out fast. Maybe not your part in it, but the fact that I've changed. Things could get really ugly if I can't do this. You should know I think it's worth it for you, though."

"I know, and thanks for saying it. I'll back you up whatever happens. You don't have to go through anything alone anymore. Thats what boyfriends are for...well, that and lots of good snogging and the like." Harry's smart comment resulted in another round of mellow snogging and cuddling before Draco fired off his ideas for dates. 

"We can go anywhere you like, but we may have to wait until after our last classes, plus a little time for me to keep up pretenses in Slytherin. Maybe after eight every night...or at least any night you want. I was also thinking of using this room as a rendezvous point. After all, there's a secret stair around the corner and we both know the way to this room by heart. Mostly, I just want to spend every night learning everything there is to know about the mysterious Harry Potter. No pressure today, but I'm almost going crazy with curiosity."

Harry chuckled, "Me too, you're on for tomorrow, we could walk to the owlery...or take my Cloak and sneak out to the lake? Or maybe try the top of one of the unused towers and just look at the stars and talk. I always thought I knew you, where you came from, what you thought about things. I know that was all wrong now. I just have to know how anyone so perfect could wind up hiding so much for so long."

Draco almost purred while he burrowed himself into a better snuggling position. "It's a date then, eight o'clock here and then whatever seems good after." 

They never managed to make it out of the room until well after four in the afternoon, and it was only grudgingly and with much farewell snogging that they managed to leave at all. The week to come might be heaven, hell or both, but it certainly wouldn't be boring.


	10. Building Foundations

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 10 'Building Foundations'

The week was a blur of activity, but their dates were tiny islands of joy in the sea of classwork, drudgery and secrecy. It was just as well that Draco had planned dates later in the evening since, for who knew what reason, Snape was on the warpath and had Harry in detention every day after class.

On the bright side, Draco had taken the time to make some pleasing alterations to 'their' room. Clean sheets, blankets and pillows, new rugs, a few Cleaning Charms to strip the dust and must away, and new supplies for the study desk so they could even finish schoolwork there. 

He'd also stored away a little kit of his own hygiene and grooming products, just so he'd feel at home...even if it was only every so often that they were needed. Draco was proudest of the specific spells he'd worked on the door to the suite. It was a special variation of the Notice Me Not Charm he'd used on occasion. Unless someone was very keen-eyed and intent on finding this room, only Harry or Draco would notice the door. With Locking and Silence Spells in place, this would make the room a perfect sanctum for them.

Harry's week had been a lot more complicated. Aside from Snape venting on Harry all week, Hermione was constantly hinting that she knew something was up and that she wanted to help. Under different circumstances, Harry would have been grateful and he really wished he could share what was going on. Harry wasn't above enjoying a little 'girl-talk' with his friends. It stung a little that he had to keep this from them.

Even Ron was becoming aware that Harry was pre-occupied and happy over something. When Harry quietly implied that it was someone, not something, Ron had just punched him on the arm, congratulated him and accepted without question that, because of Harry's fame, he wanted privacy.

The only part that made Harry flinch was Ron's off color comment. He'd joked that, once Harry got serious with his 'lucky guy', there wouldn't be any hiding it for long. Ron insisted that, as soon Harry actually shagged his new friend, the rest of the school would just have to look for the boy with a pronounced limp, since the only person in Hogwarts who could possibly take a tool like Harry's and shrug it off was Malfoy the Slytherin Slut.

It had been meant in the spirit of fun, but Harry was glad that he hadn't been looking Ron in the eyes that moment. He was half between panic and anger, and just flushed crimson and stuttered out a half-hearted comeback. He wanted everyone to know the Draco he knew, and it sickened Harry to listen to every cheap shot taken at his boyfriend.

At least their dates were perfect. They walked and talked and cuddled and snogged every night. A steady diet of kisses and conversation kept them both afloat through the week. They slept well and weren't haunted by visions at all after their evening at the Pensieve. It seemed that, once they gave up repressing their desires and just enjoyed each other's company, they were fine. 

They spoke of everything to each other, even bits of their childhood that neither had ever shared with another person. Draco had gotten choked up when Harry finally talked about growing up at the Dursleys. He'd never imagined that the Boy-Who-Lived could have been raised by such contemptible people. It explained a lot about Harry's intense need for privacy, and his weird absence of pride or bravado, despite his amazing accomplishments. 

Harry also confided in Draco the depth of loss he felt when Sirius had been killed. He hadn't been ashamed of crying in Draco's arms when he told of how deeply he'd wanted to have a family that loved him. He'd only just begun to feel comfortable with his godfather when that little happiness was ripped away from him.

After a lifetime of being treated as a burden by the Dursleys, he'd had a glimpse of what it felt like to be loved without condition, and it hurt worse than he could say with words to lose that precious feeling so suddenly and so violently.

Harry took heart in one thing now...and it was the beginnings of that closeness with Draco. The sense of intimacy and growing mutual respect made him feel like he had a family, even if it was a family of one. It soothed the aching emptiness in him like nothing ever had, and he was fast finding it desperately necessary.

Draco's childhood, by comparison, sounded like a fairy tale of perfection. Vast gardens, toys and magic, grand parties with sumptuous meals and parents who lavished praise upon him. Then came the return of the Dark Lord, and his father had changed so quickly that it had been shocking. His temper had become short, and his mood cold and distant, as though Lucius had been a thousand miles away, even while sitting next to his wife and child. 

There had been endless icy lectures about the expectations that would be upon Draco as an heir. It got much worse when it became apparent that Draco was queer, and not just marginally so, but drastically, radically extremely queer.

It had been the only time he'd been truly afraid of his father. Lucius had looked almost murderous when he discovered his heir was unlikely to provide grandchildren, and worst of all, unlikely to follow in Lucius' footesteps as a servant of Lord Voldemort.

The lectures had taken a darker tone, constantly implying that Draco was scarcely worthy of living, and insisting that at the very least he should try to honor his family by at least pretending to be strong and competent and ruthless. 

There had been other conversations as well. About the pointlessness of love, the wicked and contemptible nature of people, the virtues of power and the safety it could buy. Then his father's imprisonment had shattered the tension riddled truce between them. The last year had been a living hell of visiting his father in Azkaban, only to be cursed at and snarled at in scorn while Lucius vented his frustrations on his only child. 

Draco's mother had become quiet and distant, too. It was as if, without Lucius to guide her, she could scarcely make it through the day. Draco tried to bring his mother around with cheery news, gifts and the like, but Narcissa withdrew a little further from the world with every passing month. These days she rarely left her private suite in Malfoy Manor.

He'd been so terribly lonely the last year. All he could cling to was the idea that he might make his father proud by bringing the family name back into social prominence. Then vast parties could be held on the garden lawns again and maybe his mother could shine the way she always had, when company was about and she was the perfect hostess. It was a dream that had carried him through, until a reality better than his dreams had somehow fallen into his arms.

They learned other things about each other as well. Draco's penchant for Muggle music had been completely unknown to Harry and the rest of the school (although his fondness for pop divas wasn't exactly surprising), and that had led to other revelations.

Draco actually enjoyed bits of Muggle culture and really hadn't held any malice against non-purebloods since shortly after he'd reached adolescence. He quoted his father and mirrored the sentiments of other Slytherins in public, but privately cherished literature, art, poetry and music, whether Muggle or Wizarding made. Whatever image had been crafted to fool others, beneath it was a scintillatingly gifted mind and a soul that hungered for closeness and truth.

If Draco could be described as prejudiced, it was largely the prejudice of a meritocrat, holding to the belief that anyone who either possessed no talents, or failed to use the ones they had, deserved more or less whatever happened to them.

Harry found it a bit uncharitable, having spent too long in the shoes of 'the weak', and Draco seemed to be willing to re-examine his past beliefs and change them if given a good reason, so it passed between them without issue.

The discovery that Harry had an abiding love of museums, parks and gardens had caught Draco off guard. Harry loved wide open spaces and airy, spacious rooms ever since he'd been freed from living in that awful cupboard under the stairs. Draco made a mental note to tour the Malfoy gardens with Harry in tow someday. After all, they were nearly eighteen and only had a half year of school left before they could do anything they wanted. 

Among the most confusing moments for Draco was being forced to rethink his opinion of the Weasleys in general. It was more of a generational feud, and he'd been given enough grief by Ron to keep it going, but hearing how well Molly and Arthur had treated his Harry left him reeling.

He'd always imagined the Weasley Burrow as some hovel of extreme privation owed to the absence of an understanding of basic contraception. The notion that it was a rowdy and joyful place, full of the deep and abiding love of a good family, shook up his world view more than he liked to admit. In the end he committed to the idea of at least trying to get along with the Weasleys...he found he could forgive a lot to anyone who had been so good to Harry.

The only night they hadn't spent together had been Friday. Most of the older students had gone to Hogsmeade to celebrate the weekend and Draco wanted the opportunity to pick up a present for Harry. Draco had sent a quick inquiry into town at the start of the week, and he knew it should be ready by now.

A certain caution was called for, since he did have Crabbe and Goyle by his side, and the rest of Slytherin was at least suspicious that something was going on with Draco. He'd kept questions down to a minimum with a few mild hexings, but he felt too good to really unload the way he once did. His silence on the subject was suspicious in itself, since he had a long history of cheerfully bragging about his exploits. Now he disappeared for the night and offered no explanations. 

It was worrisome indeed when Crabbe and Goyle made fumbling overtures for him to offer some clue as to what he'd been up to. It had been kind of sweet, though. They'd been sitting in the common room of Slytherin and actually asked if he'd been feeling alright or needed any help, implying that they were there if he needed them. He'd considered hexing them along with everyone else within earshot , then simply answered, "No...I'm fine actually, but thanks for the thought." 

That had been very out of character, but he couldn't help wanting to at least let his two most faithful minions know he appreciated them. They might feel differently if they knew what he was up to, but at least they'd stuck by him for six years, and it had been nice to at least not worry about two people from his house. 

He left his hulking guardians in the street while he stepped into the jewelers and asked after his order. It was perfect, and he paid the man extra, both for his craftsmanship and his silence. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed this week thoroughly, but the thought he'd put into this gift might just get Harry's clothes off tomorrow night...and THAT thought put a smile on his face that was very difficult to conceal as he left the shop.

He was curious about what Harry was up to on this night apart, since he hadn't seen his boyfriend anywhere in Hogsmeade, even though Granger and The Weas...Weasley were wandering about. Still, he had appearances to keep up, and lavishing a few free rounds of Butterbeers to any Slytherins present at the Three Broomsticks was a part of it. He could wait, it would just make tomorrow night all the more special.

Harry already missed Draco's presence, but he had a mission of his own. He wanted to give Draco something special this weekend, and nothing had seemed right until he stumbled onto the unused amethyst in his robe pocket.

The spellwork was the trickiest, and he'd needed time and privacy to get it right. It was worth it a hundred times over if Draco liked it the way he thought he would. Presents are presents and always good, but Harry desperately wanted to make this one meaningful and personal, something that would last forever in Draco's memories as the most amazing thing ever given to him. 

After Snape had let him out of detention, he ran to the top of one the unused towers and went to work in silence. He was sweating from the effort of concentration when he was finished, but it worked perfectly.

On the way back down to Gryffindor dorms, he mused privately over how lucky he was to even have someone worth making this effort over. Harry wasn't one to say anything he didn't mean, and he'd been very careful not to casually throw around words as important as 'I love you' in Draco's presence, but the urge to say it had been growing all week.

Every tidbit he'd learned about Draco had been like the sweetest nectar, and he wanted to say how he felt. It felt right, and good, and natural. He wasn't just going to just say it, either...he was going to do his best to show how much he meant it, too.


	11. Paradise (part 1)

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 11 'Paradise (part 1)'

It had been mutually agreed upon that they would meet in their private room, on Saturday night, at eight pm. A Friday apart had left them both edgy and eager for contact. What had grown between them was new and fragile, and it seemed to require regular encouragement to make them both feel comfortable and secure in their new relationship.

It was Draco who made it to the room first, having ditched the rest of Sytherin as they made ready for another inter-house party. He had his own inter-house party in mind, and the short wait for Harry still felt interminably long.

His gift was wrapped and stored in a small and exquisite package, and Draco kept putting his hand in his pocket for reassurance, checking to make sure the gift was still there, while he waited. Harry was going to love this! 

When Harry came through the door and peeled off his school robe, they met in a warm embrace, eyes closed, lips working hungrily against each other, and only small sighs of pleasure could be heard for the first few minutes.

"Gods, is it good to see you. Look at me, will you? Giddy after a day and a half apart. Yet, somehow, I'm not really minding it. Tell me how your day went, then I have a little something for you! By the way, you look very handsome in that outfit," Draco opened cheerfully. 

Harry looked wonderfully relaxed, and once his school robes were off, he looked so very fine in Muggle clothing that fit right. Not exactly the stuff of runways, but clothing that fit and looked more than casual was rare on Harry...Draco noticed the difference instantly. 

Dark slacks and a crisp, white long-sleeved shirt, that showed evidence of being well-tailored, were rounded out by dress shoes and and a slim black belt. Dressed like this, Harry looked slightly older and more commanding...and the effect was not lost on Draco.

"The only thing the last couple days had a shortage of was you, but I'm feeling better already. Snape seems to be lightening up a bit, so at least next week I can look forward to not spending an extra couple hours every night in Potions scrubbing cauldrons and labelling ingredients.

Thanks for noticing the change of clothes. I thought it would be nice to treat this like a special occasion. After all, I've never had a boyfriend for a week before. Since it was such a perfect week, it seemed like a good idea to celebrate it, so before you show me what you got for me, there's somewhere we need to go first." Harry's eyes were absolutely twinkling with barely contained anticipation. He must have a nice surprise in store, since he possessed the kind of instincts that made a poker face impossible.

"You've got the Cloak?" Harry nodded assent. "Well, all right then. I can wait a little to see what you've cooked up, you rogue. Hmmph, any excuse to get me under that Cloak with you. Like you need a pretense, after all...this is me we're talking about here." Draco smirked as he climbed under the Invisibility Cloak and slid his arm around his boyfriend's waist. Safely covered, they stepped out the door and began their journey.

They took the stairs to the seventh floor of the castle, and drifted through the halls in a comfortable silence. Before long, Harry paused and peeled off the robe, then paced back and forth whispering to himself. Draco was terribly curious until a door opened where once only wall had been. Harry beamed and stepped through, motioning for Draco to follow. As soon as Draco stepped in the door he stopped cold and gaped in amazement. 

The room was fit for royalty, decorated lavishly with furnishings that rivaled Malfoy Manor, and warmly lit by scores of candles in sconces and candelabra. In the center of the room was an exquisite round table set for two, yet small enough that the two seated would be close enough for conversation. Across the room was an archway framed by thick drapes that only partially obscured an enormous bed fitted with tasteful and insanely expensive looking sheets and blankets.

Draco tried to regain his composure by thinking of the music that was ever-present in the background of the room...violins, 18th century Muggle concertos...if he was guessing right.

Then Harry pulled an ornate chair away from the table with perfect etiquette, waiting like a gentleman for Draco to seat himself. Draco's instincts rallied and he seated himself calmly, all the while laboring not to break out in tears. He could tell his eyes were moist, but as long as Harry didn't spring anything larger on him he might just be able to keep a shred of self control. Merlin! What kind of man would do this for me?

Harry seated himself across from Draco and looked across the table warmly. "So it's probably safe to say you like this, right? It's called the Room Of Requirement. It was a real workout getting the specifics down, because the Room shapes itself generally to what is required...I kind of had to fill in the blanks until the Room got it right."

"Harry, this is incredible. I can't believe you did this for me. This is like something out of a storybook, and I love it!" Draco was flushed and almost breathless. "You make me feel like everything is possible. Harry, I...I know its been a fast start for us, but I can't stand not saying this to you...Harry...I love you."

Harry had his turn to blush furiously, but even so, he smiled widely. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? I know I haven't said it to you, but I needed to be sure I could say it and mean it. I'd never say something like that off the cuff. I love you, Draco, there isn't anything about you that I don't want, and I know it must be true, because a day without you is only tolerable when I think of seeing you again. You make me feel completely alive in a way I didn't even know I could feel...until this week. I just wanted to show you how much that means to me." 

They leaned across the table as one and kissed heartbreakingly slowly, hands held in each other's as they momentarily lost control. They both had small trails of tears sliding down their cheeks, but neither of them really cared about appearances right then.

Draco came to his senses first, and drew back, reaching into his pocket and placing a tiny wrapped package between them. "I had something made for you, it seemed right...I hope you like it."

Harry let go of Draco's hand and picked up the package. Harry loved presents more than most people, mostly because they were a new thing in his life the last few years. Inside the wrapping was a small velvet box which, when opened, displayed a small silver necklace with cunning detail. A griffin rampant, entwined by a serpent, meeting at the tail and nose.

Unlike other renderings, this one held no trace of hostility between the two figures. They seemed utterly at peace, wrapped together, noses just touching. Harry had never worn a piece of jewelry before, but this was beautiful, especially in light of what it meant. Harry slipped the thin chain around his neck and let the amulet fall to the center of his chest.

He looked up to Draco and said, "It's beautiful, love. Griffon and serpent at peace. This isn't lost on me. This is the only thing like this in the world and you had it made for me. It's not hard to know why I love you." Harry casually dropped a small soft bag into Draco's palm. "Or why I made this for you. Enjoy." 

Draco loosed the strings at the top of the little bag and tipped it down into his palm. The amethyst was neatly cut, but nothing overwhelming. It was what Draco saw when he looked into the heart of the jewel that made him gasp and cover his mouth in surprise.

The first image playing in the jewel over and over again was their first kiss, at the top of the stairs two weeks ago. The second image that appeared was one of Harry, just standing and looking straight at him, mouthing the words 'I love you.' Draco couldn't make words, his eyes were tearing too fast, and he almost knocked over the table trying to get into Harry's arms. 

"I almost used that amethyst to lock away the memories of us. If you hadn't come when you did...I would have held them in this. I didn't need it after that night, so it just sat...until I thought of a way to show you how much you mean to me. This way we'll never forget how we got here, and I'll never forget what I almost missed." Harry's voice was thick with emotion while he held Draco to him.

Draco was actually trembling like a leaf, crying into Harry's shoulder. Then he felt those soft lips kissing the tears off of his cheeks. Gentle hands were in his hair, and the voice that whispered into his ear spoke only kindnesses. He managed to make out that there was supposed to be dinner for them, but he wasn't hungry that way now.

It didn't seem like his own voice, so raw and needy, saying, "Please...Harry...tell me you want me now...please...I need you." But it must have been real, since Harry took his hand and walked him through the draped archway and into that marvelous bedroom.

He let Harry lead the way, and they began with a rain of kisses, pausing only for breath, slaking their thirst for each other slowly, until the only places left unkissed were those imprisoned by clothes. They didn't strip them away quickly, despite their almost frantic need. They peeled the clothes from each other with an exaggerated slowness, still kissing when they weren't interrupted by clothing being pulled away. 

When at last they were naked, the cool air of the room soothed the heat that seemed to burn from within them both and they could be patient. Patient enough to make this lasting and right in every way. Sprawled in each other's arms, they explored the feeling of each other's bodies consciously for the first time. Harry's hands studied every part of Draco's body...worshipfully, his green eyes shining with the excitement of a man solving a mystery that had eluded him for years. 

Harry's mind was reeling. It was stunning, the softness and unmarred perfection of Draco's skin. He felt like he could spend the night doing nothing else but touching that softness and still be happy for it. 

Most amazing to him was the sheer audacity of what he was doing. He was naked, in a bed, with Draco, NAKED! No Firewhiskey blurred it this time. Every beautiful inch of Draco was locking into his memory for life. He worked his lips down Draco's torso ever so slowly, paying attention to the pert points of nipples which cried out to be kissed. 

The sudden tension of his lover told him he was making an impression, the whispered urgings grew feverish, and those slender, fine hands were in Harry's hair and twisting small locks of it through Draco's fingers. He was gently moving lower, toward something he'd dreamed of since he'd first known he was gay.

He stroked his hand down Draco's stomach, just hinting at where he was heading, then veered to the right, working his lips and tongue hungrily along Draco's inner thigh. The gasps and little cries from Draco were all he needed to hear. When he'd made his lover squirm for as long as he could stand, he finally took careful hold of Draco's weeping and quivering erection. It was the first and only one he'd ever held, ever kissed, ever looked at more than furtively in a shower. This time it was the first all over again. 

Even at just a little more than half the size of his own, it was magnificent. Pale and only lightly veined, arrow straight, and faintly slick at the top from precome. Harry took his time getting comfortable with it, instinctively reading the feel of Draco's body for clues. When he finally let the length of it slide across his tongue and into his throat it surprised him how warm, alien and alive it felt there.

He was suddenly aware of the memory of how Draco had felt, two weeks ago, doing the same to him. He used that as his guide and began to softly work his lips around the head while gently stroking with his hand. The combination of the two actions rendered Draco into a trembling, moaning wreck, perpetually dangling from the precipice of orgasm, yet desperately trying to hold on a little longer. 

Harry didn't relent. He adjusted his pace every so often, taking short breaks from the rhythm to pull that perfect organ deeper into his throat, then starting his pace anew. Draco tried to warn that he was close, begging almost incoherently, but Harry had no intention of pulling away.

When Draco's body began to shudder uncontrollably, Harry knew it was near, and in only a few seconds, Draco began to pant and cry out as he came, hot seed spilling across Harry's tongue, eagerly swallowed as if by instinct, only the slightest drop trickling around the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

Draco's hips bucked wildly as the last bursts of his orgasm were released into Harry's mouth, that strong hand on his chest the only thing that kept Draco from thrashing his way off the bed. As he calmed and gathered himself in the aftermath of that wondrous explosion, one savage thought crossed Draco's mind. 'MY TURN!' 

He sat up and kissed Harry directly on the mouth, deeply and passionately, no mind payed to his own recently spent come lingering on Harry's lips. He pushed Harry back onto the bed and sat astride him, kissing him into near submission, then began to subject Harry to the same slow and torturous treatment that Draco had just recieved. 

Harry bore up no better than he had, shaking when soft lips worked their way from his neck down his chest. This was where Draco's expertise began to show. He teased Harry effortlessly and relentlessly, constantly hinting at pleasures to come, then darting away at the last second. 

When at last he made his way to Harry's enormous and aching erection, the man was almost in tears, clutching the sheets and gritting his teeth in a state that looked convincingly similar to agony.

Even when Draco began to flick his tongue around the head of his boyfriend's penis and occasionally wrap his lips around just the head, there was no relief for Harry. Draco never let any one rhythm guide Harry to climax. Instead, he kept Harry hung upon the stars, like a crucified god, waiting for ecstacy that refused to come.

He used every trick he'd learned in four years, as well as a few he'd only heard of, and the hardest was the attempt to deep throat the imposing organ in front of him. He almost had to unhinge his jaw to get it in. Serpent of Slytherin, indeed. 

The look of shock on Harry's glassy-eyed face had been worth it. The sight of his considerable manhood disappearing into Draco's hungry mouth was more than he could stand. Draco could feel the tension building and slid back to a more tenable position. He already knew what was coming must be like unto a flood, and steadied himself as he gently teased Harry over that final edge.

Even prepared, it was a bit more than he could cope with. Despite swallowing as fast as he could, his mouth seemed to bulge with the stuff, ultimately leading to his pulling away, chin drenched and mouth agape as a few last spurts struck his neck and chest. 

Harry called out to Muggle and wizarding gods alike, hips thrusting uncontrollably with desire and the unconscious urge to rut. Panting for breath, he pulled his lover to him and kissed away the mess on that perfect chin. He was sated momentarily, but he was no less erect than he had been a minute ago, and his appetite had just been thoroughly whetted.


	12. Paradise (part 2)

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 12 'Paradise (part 2)'

 

Harry was lost in Draco, a living ship, cleaving its way through a sea of desire. The soft sounds of delirious assent were all that reached his ears, and silken limbs were all that he could feel. A moment that Harry was almost afraid of was near.

Draco could wait no longer, and had scrambled into position while Harry carefully slicked himself with a generous quantity of lubricant. His lover lay on his back before him, knees pulled tight to his chest. Harry gently oiled and caressed the delicately pursed entrance he'd be penetrating so very soon, while Draco uttered desperate demands in a hushed and eager tone.

When he was certain that Draco was ready, Harry moved into position. One hand was steadying his erect length, the other taking hold of one of Draco's ankles. It was a lengthy process, with Draco writhing under him, pulling in just a little more of Harry with each gasp and push. Harry found every second of it fascinating. That people could fit together this way at all, that Draco seemed not be in any real pain, but just a delicious shadow of pain, still hungry for everything Harry could offer. These things roiled through Harry's mind during the crawling minutes as Draco worked his way onto Harry's ponderous and imposing erection.

For Draco's part, he too was utterly lost in that moment. This was what he'd been waiting for, half in fear that his memories and visions hadn't been real. Here he was, struggling, wholly conscious of the incredible, gentle, and green-eyed wunderkind above him, driving himself an inch at a time to claim everything of Harry's as his own.

He realized in a crazy and surreal moment of thought that he'd never have been able to endure this awesome stretching of his limits as a bottom, this wondrous invasion of his body...if it hadn't been for his colorful past. Was that fate? Irony? A late absolution for a life mispent?

Here he was, receiving everything that comprised his fantasies and his wishes, despite all that he had ever done wrong. His head was almost spinning, he pushed out hard one last time and slid the last length until he was snug against his lover's lap. He laughed a joyful little laugh of pleasure and relief, running his leg around Harry's neck, only to feel those wonderful hands on his hips. He crossed his ankles behind Harry's head, moving as slowly and subtly as he could. Harry brought his head down low, kissing Draco's lips, gently working his way down Draco's chin to the pit of his throat. Then he began to move.

He was sheathed in the warmth of Draco's impossibly slender body, staring intently into those soft grey eyes for any sign of something that was not pleasure, thrumming with tension and desire he could barely control. When he moved, the small sounds become louder, and he was conscious of the heat and soft, welcoming tightness around his erection, amazed by the intensity of sensation that nearly stole all reason from him.

He was cautious, aware that a sudden or rough movement could do real harm, but with every slow push and pull he gained a little confidence, always encouraged by the sounds of desire coming from his lover. Soon he reached a pace that seemed to bring the heights of desire from Draco, who cried out loudly and often, and that pace was kept, neither slow nor fast, but one he could keep a long time, like a marathon runner hitting his stride.

His hands roamed from Draco's hips and waist up to that wonderful, angelic face, he slid his hand behind Draco's neck and entwined his fingers in that silky blond hair, watching as Draco arched his back in impossibly cat-like ways, and all the while he held to the same steady thrusts that were serving so well.

Draco lounged in ecstasy, half between a tension so thick he could scarcely breath and a floating sense of awe and freedom that almost pulled him out of reality. His lover's hands on him were aphrodisiac, something about Harry's touch drove him insane with desire.

Logically, he knew that sex always felt good, but this was a madness, a total lust to surrender himself he'd only felt once in a blurred memory, and now that memory was a huge and thrusting reality of which he was so very hungrily aware. 

Harry had shifted just a bit, tipping Draco back only an inch or two, but it made all the difference in the world. The sweet spot that Harry had brushed and every so often bumped before was suddenly the center of all attention. It was more than Draco could think through and remain sane.

His muscles tensed and flexed out of control, he dug his nails into Harry's back while screaming out assent and desire, and then his own body betrayed him, as he felt the flush of sudden and uncontrollable orgasm take him over, making him clench his muscles tightly around the still thrusting member of his lover. With a strangled cry he exploded between them, gasping and panting, so enraptured that he almost hadn't noticed the building tension in Harry's body, until that miracle pace became staggered and frantic.

With a groan Harry arched his back and began to come, holding still save for tiny motions, savoring every keen sensation of his orgasm inside Draco's waiting warmth. He brought his face closer to Draco's, hungry for a kiss, and when they had kissed with a gasping urgency and were near collapse, he heard Draco's whispered and profound thanks in his ear.

With the grace of an acrobat, Draco rolled to the top, Harry beneath him, erection still buried deeply and twitching inside Draco's body. He had surrendered, yes, but he had not forgotten everything he knew of pleasing lovers and himself. He wasn't finished with Harry yet, and by the feel of Harry in him, the same was true for his lover.

He leaned in to kiss Harry's surprised face, while Harry kissed away the trails of tears Draco had scarcely noticed in his state of excitement. Draco fairly rippled across Harry, his body flexing in ways reminiscent of waves and yet utterly alien to the human form. No one should be so limber. 

Harry's briefly sated member began to stir again inside Draco, and Draco made quick work of finding just the right ways to tease without bringing another climax too soon. He ground into Harry's hips, raised himself up, then slid back onto the spear of flesh beneath him.

Harry looked up in wonder at the determined and insatiable creature above him. Draco seemed transformed into some fierce and implacable sexual beast, writhing and flexing above Harry without stop. Harry slid his hands across that pale and wonderfully defined chest, loving the soft ripple of ribs, the sensitive buds of Draco's nipples.

The word luxurious sprung into his mind unbidden. His life had known so little real wealth, only to crown it with this penultimate luxury. He couldn't help but think of the staircase he nearly fell from, the irony, that Draco pulled him from that brink of death or injury, only to drag him, now willing, over the edge of lust and into a state of utter satiation.

And so it went, hours whiling by. Some in moments of soft reflection, murmuring the gentle benedictions of lovers to one another in the sweat-drenched respite from their efforts, others in renewed frenzy and the union of bodies that craved a closeness once beyond their imagination, but now so easily grasped.

Candlelight shadows flickered across lean and hungry bodies that craved as much from each other as could be taken. When at the last they sunk into one another's contented arms and slept the sleep of near exhaustion, it was almost two in the morning. The burgeoning desire between them had been consummated in a final and absolute way that bound them utterly. They slept in a tangle of limbs, smiling innocents in a world of danger, at play in a sacred garden of the mind that even the terrors of daily life couldn't violate.

Outside that garden, danger waited in the unexpected attention of one who bore a long grudge. A spell was being cast by an angry mind, hidden by a placid exterior. A spell of location was being prepared, made possible by a single thread of carelessly fallen blond hair. Once cast, it built a compass of sorts...a compass that unerringly pointed the way to a single person.

Draco Malfoy's unknown nemesis had sensed change...weakness, and opportunity. No such opportunity for vengeance would be wasted. Malfoy had enjoyed his turn at having it all. Lording it over others like he was without taint. The insolence of that little bitch was legendary. He was only one boy, though, and a selfish and lazy one at that.

Malfoy had been up to something and secretive as hell. In secrets lay power...and soon he would know Malfoy's precious secrets. With a little luck and the right words in the right places, Slytherin would have a new Prince before the week was out, and Malfoy would be nothing more than chaff cast aside for the wheat!

Morning came and went unnoticed by Harry and Draco. In fact, afternoon was almost upon them before they had the wherewithal to rise. When they finally woke, it was nearly mutually and spontaneous. Sore and spent from the previous night, they stirred against one another in slumber.

Draco, half conscious, still seemed to gravitate without thought toward the slowly thickening organ at rest against his back. Harry's happy dreams seemed faintly tinged with lust, despite his every appetite having been so recently glutted. The soft motions between them stirred them from their dreams and into a reality of waking lust that vaguely surprised them both. 

Draco took control at first, slipping a hand behind him to find that teasingly rampant member that prodded incessantly at him. Finding the swollen shaft, he gently caressed it to fullness, hearing Harry's semi-wakeful sighs of pleasure.

Draco's free hand reached for the jar of lubricant that remained by the night stand and, with a skill born of practice, he opened it with one hand and smeared a dollop onto his fingers. Switching hands he oiled the flexing muscle behind him in silence, then guided it toward his own opening. 

This morning his soreness wouldn't be the cause of unrequited hunger for more. Closing his eyes and bearing down, he slid Harry into him with a slow and sure ease that almost embarrassed him, except that he no longer cared what anyone thought of him save for Harry.

When he'd completely devoured that wonderful sword of flesh, he could feel the front of Harry's sac against the back of his own. He could scarcely help the small moans and barely audible whimpers that escaped him while he ground against Harry's lap, pleasuring himself while Harry seemed to oblige him in dreams.

Harry didn't remain asleep long. The soft pressure around his penis dragged him slowly from dreams, and the sexy little sounds from Draco brought a happy reality and slow wakefulness to him. He woke with a groan of pleasure, smiling from ear to ear, and took hold of the lithe hips beside him. As soon as he could muster his full attention, he took charge of the rather nice wake up call he was being given.

Harry firmly rolled on top of Draco and kept his knees between his lover's, spreading Draco's legs wide apart. He delivered his immediate attention to kissing the slim back and soft neck now displayed beneath him, all the while offering a more vigorous stroke into the soft embrace that had claimed his morning erection.

In minutes, the little moans and cries had grown to loud and shameless ones, and the gentle pace had been replaced by short hard thrusts against the spot Harry knew would leave Draco satisfied most quickly. 

He felt Draco's entire body tense and clench with a fast approaching need to release. Draco shrieked and whimpered while his back arched in weird angles and his slender frame shook in the grips of pleasure.

That pulled Harry right over the edge into swift and happy orgasm, filling the sublime and wondrous body beneath him with one last impressive dose of his come, even as Draco came onto the sheets beneath them. It had been so quick that they hadn't even worked up a sweat, yet they collapsed together like the entire night had caught up with them, laughing and crying in relief.

"Draco, love, I have NEVER woken up this happy! I love you! I always hated mornings...do you realize I'm rethinking that now only because of you!" Harry giggled and panted.

Draco craned his neck to kiss Harry, "Merlin, I'm not rethinking anything. I'm just planning our next ten thousand mornings! I think I'll let you plan the nights. Harry...I want this forever. Can you be the rest of my life? Please, please, please...with sugar on top?" 

Now he was just being silly, but for once it looked good on him. Harry covered him in kisses and Draco gave as good as he got, until the dawning realization that he quite badly needed a bathroom overtook him.

"Um, Harry? No complaints, love, but where is the bathroom here? I may not mind losing the dignity I didn't really want, but if I don't find a bathroom in the next few minutes I'm going to lose the little I have left!" 

Harry chuckled, but pointed to the tasteful curtains against the wall to the left. "Through those, love...and peek in the cabinet under the sink when you get the chance, you'll love it." 

Draco clambered out of the bed and padded rather delicately into the spacious bathroom the Room had created. The cabinet would have to wait a second as he found the toilet and sat with a sense of relief. Aside from a full bladder demanding attention, his body also happened to be full of another fluid, graciously provided in abundance by the stud in the other room. Not that he minded, but it was only by minutes that he had avoided losing control and spilling the lot of it in front of Harry. THAT was an embarrassment he would take any steps to avoid. 

Draco prided himself on a certain perpetual tightness despite an active sex life, but after a night with that magnificent thing in him it was a bit harder to maintain his control...particularly right after the act itself.

When the flood tides from an entire night (and morning) of excess had receded, Draco took a moment to peek into the cabinet beneath the sink. To his surprise he found a full array of the very expensive grooming products he favored. He mused that every castle should have a Room of Requirement like this one. Bloody brilliant!

He wanted to give Harry a fair chance to use the bathroom before he showered, so he headed back into the bedroom, still an extravagant masterpiece despite the strewn clothes and rumpled sheets.

Harry was waiting by the bedside with pot of tea and a set of cups and saucers before him. "Close your eyes and think of what you REQUIRE for breakfast. This Room is awesome." 

Draco did as asked and when he opened his eyes a tray of sweet rolls had joined the tea set before them. He was nearly purring with contentment as he curled himself up next to Harry. Naked breakfast in bed, in an enchanted room that catered to their every whim! No couple since the dawn of time could possibly have consummated their love more extravagantly than this! Eventually their last, somewhat tamer, hunger was sated and they made their way to the shower. 

Neither of the boys had EVER showered with another person that mattered to them, and both had decided that since this room offered a unusually spacious bath, that it must have been an unconscious requirement. This was paradise.

The lavish products provided for Draco made for great fun as he introduced Harry to something better than a bar of Dial and a Drying Spell. The bathroom was filled with steam and the delicious scents of exotic fruits and oils from faraway lands while their hands explored each other intimately.

The only side effect was the unmourned rush to their mutual libidos, which led to an unanticipated final round of love-making in the hazy heat. Draco hadn't even cared when he didn't come in the traditional fashion. The glorious feeling of Harry in him had pushed right to the brink and left him sated and dizzy with the aftershocks of sex and yet he hadn't 'finished' in the usual way. 

He did feel energized and giddy as they slipped from the shower and gently towelled each other dry. His moment of ecstasy had purely internal...he'd heard of such a thing but never felt it before. He imagined it must be like unto the orgasm of a woman, experienced purely within one's self.

It was actually a wonderful thing to him that only one person had ever made him feel that...Harry. He had given Draco everything imaginable...then crowned that accomplishment with things that hadn't even been imagined. Draco felt reborn, kissing as they pulled their clothes on. This gentle god that ruled him had driven away every bitterness in his heart and struck dead every lonesome ache and unfulfillable desire. If he died tomorrow, it would be with a smile that couldn't be removed...even from his breathless body. 

If he had known what lay in wait for him in the days to come, such an easy death might have looked appealing by comparison.


	13. Confrontation

"All I Ever Wanted" ...chap. 13 'Confrontation'

 

It took a while to actually say goodbye to their 'honeymoon suite', as they had come to think of it. After all, it had been a wonderful oasis of peace and self indulgence before they had to return to the sometimes ugly world that waited for them.

When they'd claimed their belongings and kissed for a few last precious minutes, they threw on the Cloak and left, sad to know that the special, wonderful place that helped mark the birth of their consummated love was suddenly a featureless room, just waiting to be shaped by another's need. 

They made their way quietly to the sixth floor room that had become their own 'Room of Requirement' of sorts, hoping the student traffic would stay thin. Luckily, only a couple of students passed them the entire way and both hadn't a clue that invisible passers-by were in the hall. Locked safely behind the door of their warded and silenced sanctum, they peeled away the Cloak and took a deep breath of relief.

It was stressful, keeping mum about their activities...leaving at different times, patently ignoring each other in the halls while others were about. The problem was that they'd moved their relationship forward by a huge leap. Neither would be comfortable with a sexless relationship now, it had gone much too far for that.

They'd agreed that future meetings would have to be scheduled with an eye to both secrecy...AND a comfortable place for both snogging and shagging. Not that they had to part just yet. A hasty house-elf call from Harry brought a light lunch and some juices while they talked about the future.

"Harry..." Draco looked across the bed expectantly.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to do after school? I know you want to be an Auror and all, I remember that, but have you ever thought about where you'd live, if you'd travel, things like that?" Draco, despite all his talents in the arts of faked nonchalance, was no match for the man who loved him and carefully read his every move and word out of adoration. As innocent as it sounded, there was a faint little hint of serious concern in Draco's eyes.

"I'm not even sure I still want to be an Auror...it might be good, or not. I did kind of recently think about us maybe getting a place of our own...a place with no history, just you and me to make our own history. I'd love to travel, though! I've hardly been anywhere so almost anywhere we go would be 'travel'. Why? Do you have some ideas? Because I'm open to anything."

Draco already looked relieved, if a little pensive. "Well, I have Malfoy Manor...you have the Black estate, we both have more money than we could rightly spend in a life. We could do anything, right?"

"Sure! No reason we couldn't. Once we've graduated we'll have the credentials to do almost anything. We're already adults...the only reason we even have to be quiet about us for now is to keep the rest of the class from going completely round the bend."

Draco finally moved to his endgame point. "What do you think of taking off for a year after school is over and just touring the world...Muggle and wizarding alike. Museums, ancient history, architecture, sculpture and art, everything in the world. We could just travel and see what's out there together. It would be heaven wouldn't it?"

Harry looked at his lover with those piercing green eyes that bored through Draco's soul like twin diamond drills. "I'd love it," he stated flatly, "and as soon as Voldemort is worm food, that's just what we'll do. I know what you're trying to get at, and Merlin do I love you for it, but I can't leave until it's done, and I promise you...I swear to you with my heart and soul that I will kill him, and I will come home to you."

Draco seemed sad, but resigned. "It was just a thought. You do understand that I'm not used to caring enough about anyone to feel uncomfortable about them being in danger, so I know you aren't upset, but I do worry...a little. I believe in you, I think you'll clean the floor with the wicked bastard and I hope I get to watch. I also hope it's soon. I have plans for you and he'd better not delay them!" He'd worked up a little of the classic Malfoy arrogance and dander. "That cowled freak show may be worried about the 'The Boy Who Lived', but he hasn't even seen the wrath of 'The Boyfriend Who Was Rightly Pissed Off'! 

Harry promptly collapsed in laughter and slid off the bed, turning colors and guffawing as he tried to right himself. When he had a shred of control, he kissed Draco and took his hand. "Draco...love, when the war is over, I think the job for me might be just spending my life making you happy. We already know I have some talent there, and it's full of guaranteed job satisfaction. Granted there's no pay and the hours are long, but the fringe benefits are incredible!"

Draco took this teasing surprisingly well. Actually, these days, he took almost everything well. Harry just seemed to make him that way. Like a soothing balm over the jagged shards of a battered soul, Harry just made everything in the world brighter, better and easier to cope with.

Draco tackled his boyfriend and pinned him to the bed beneath them, mock wickedness in his eyes. "Just for that you're not getting out of here with some very thorough snogging!"

"Merlin, with those stakes why would I want to leave?! Mmmmph!" Harry's rejoinder was silenced by the lips that suddenly stole away his train of thought and suddenly left him as tranquil as could be.

They kissed and cuddled in silence just a bit longer, then reluctantly got up and pulled on their school robes. They needed to make some appearances in common places soon, else their respective houses would wonder where they were. They could vanish for hours, but not days.

They'd meet again Monday night, just after class, and have time then, but it seemed farther away than ever though. They cleaned the room, broke down for just a few more final kisses, then offered each other a last heartfelt 'I love you' before they went their seperate ways.

Draco left first...and as was now customary, Harry would wait ten full minutes and then check his Map just before he left. Draco stepped out into an empty hall, still glowing, almost radiant after the wondrous night and morning he'd had. In his pocket was a possession he treasured above gold, above power, above status or safety.

He thought to himself, "Father, all the influence and fear and gold in the world couldn't have bought me this! Maybe I'm scared and maybe I'm weak, but at least I have one thing you'll never know...I have Harry's love, and nothing is taking that away from me." 

When he reached a safe distance in an empty hall he took out his jewel. For a few minutes he just gazed into its winking depths, enraptured by the sight of that first miracle kiss, then by the sight of the boyfriend he adored sincerely offering his love. He sighed and slipped the stone back into his pocket. Too long staring and he'd get misty eyed, and no one in Slytherin could be allowed to see that. Draco marched on to Slytherin territory to make his presence known and keep his cover once again.

What he hadn't seen in his state of bliss was the heavily charmed figure trailing him at a distance, guarded by Notice Me Not and Silence spells, and deeply curious as to why Draco would look so mooning and wet-eyed over a petty jewel.

Harry checked his Map...no one coming or going near Harry, and Draco was already three floors down and dropping, back in halls with students drifting in and out of them.

Harry slipped out into the hall and headed for Gryffindor's tower. He might have some explaining to do, but it was worth it for this, this crazy, sexy mess he was in up to his eyeballs. He was almost skipping on the way, but why shouldn't he?

He was in love, and it didn't even seem strange that he was in love with Draco Malfoy anymore. The Draco he knew was a brilliant, thoughtful, sensitive, beautiful and sexy blessing straight from the heavens. Harry had every right to be happy, and if a few more months of secrecy were all it cost to be happy forever...well so be it! 

He it made to the entrance with a smile still on his face and gave the Fat Lady the password along with a sassy salute. As soon he entered, Hermione waved to him from across the room, motioning for him to join her.

"Hey, Harry. Got good news and bad. Which would you like first?" Hermione opened cheerfully enough.

"I'm feeling pretty good...I'll take the bad first...then you can cheer me up with the good." Harry felt at ease but privately hoped it wasn't too serious. This weekend really needed to not be marred by any tragedies. Still, Hermione didn't look too concerned, so it couldn't be all THAT bad.

"The bad news is we need to dock some spell practice time for the Order. They came up with a new set of counterspells that might be useful and everyone's got to learn them. Ron's already in one of the study rooms practicing. I'm supposed to take you there and teach them to you next. The good news is that they're possibly strong enough to thwart Unforgivables by the score and a lot more besides. You've got to learn these, they're great."

Hermione had that glow she always got when she was learning something new. Every new spell was like a shiny toy to her. Harry may not have shared her enthusiasm for learning, but he had to respect her skills.

"Alright then, take me there! Anything that spoils Lord Prat's plans is a win in my books."

Harry had to admit things were looking up. As they walked to the private study rooms he felt confident and happy. Topping off a perfect day with his lover with some quality time among his best friends made him smile even more. This year really was turning out to be the best one yet.

They came to the door of the the room evidently reserved for them and Harry stepped in, Ron gave a distracted wave while reading from one of the many books on the table in the center of the room. Nothing could possibly have surprised him more than the sound of Hermione's voice saying, "Petrificus Totalus" from behind him. The spell hit him square in the back and he was frozen solid in an instant.

Hermione rattled off Spells of Locking and Silence on the door, all the while with Ron just looking at him worriedly, but saying nothing. What if they'd been compromised? Had Death Eaters finally gotten one of them under an Imperius? This was a disaster and Harry couldn't as much as budge!

Hermione stepped into view, pointed her wand at his chest, then rattled off spell after spell! Most of them he didn't recognize, but a few he knew from his studies...and they were all spell divinations, detections and identifiers. As spell after spell showed no magic on him, she became troubled. She tried a few very slow, carefully timed spells of more ancient aspect than Harry had thought she'd known, then she sat down almost in tears. 

"Nothing! There isn't any kind of spell on him at all! This is insane!" Ron looked flabbergasted, but was still silent.

Hermione finally looked Harry in the eyes again. "I'm taking the spell off of you. Just please understand that we thought you might be under magical control of some kind. We didn't want to scare you, but there was no other way to be absolutely sure without risking a fight with you or making you try to run away. Please don't be mad at us Harry." With that she waved her wand one last time and uttered a "Finite Incantatum" and the Petrificus was gone.

Harry immediately felt his face turning red. He counted for a few seconds before even speaking. "What.. In.. The.. Name.. Of.. Flaming.. Fuck.. All.. Was.. That.. For!" 

There, he'd got the question out without reaching for his wand. How could they scare him like that?! He'd thought they were about to take a one way trip to the Dark Lord in a few minutes! If the answer wasn't damn good, he might just reach for his wand anyway.

Hermione gulped, and Ron just turned red and put his face in his hand. They were rattled by the sight of an angry Harry, but some things had to be said. 

Hermione finally rallied her nerve. "Harry, we know you've been seeing Draco Malfoy. We thought you were under a spell. Honestly, we'd never have done this unless we thought you were in danger. I hope you believe us, but we had to know."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, then closed it yet again. At the last all he could say was, "Oh, fucking bugger all!", and seat himself at the table.

Quality time. Hmmph. Things looking up. Hmmph. The risks to his boyfriend just magnified and it was all his fault. Some days it would have paid better to just stay in bed.


	14. Intervention

"All I Ever Wanted" ...chap .14 'Intervention'

 

"Okay...I can tell you I'm not under a spell, but how did you figure it out?" Harry asked with weary resignation. This conversation wasn't supposed to come until after school was finished and Draco was safe. All he could do now was play along and hope he could gain their silence on the subject.

Ron just looked vaguely ill and terribly uncertain, but Hermione sat down next to Harry and seemed to have at least a moderate grip on her emotions.

"Harry, c'mon. It's us. We've known you for almost seven years. We knew SOMETHING was up two weeks ago. You were edgy and quiet all the time, then you stopped laughing at Ron's comments about Malfoy, all the while disappearing every night for a week. You implied you had a boyfriend, you didn't give his name, AND you blush whenever Malfoy is within a hundred yards of you. You really think we wouldn't notice? You're our best friend...we notice everything!"

Ron finally burst out, "I mean Criminey, Harry! Malfoy! Ya think we wouldn't notice that! I mean it's...it's...GAH!, it's MALFOY, Harry. We thought he'd finally gone off his nut and charmed you into being his studpuppet or something." Ron looked vaguely desperate for an explanation. Harry wasn't really offering one and didn't plan to...until he'd made them suffer a little for their stunt.

"Well, Ron..." Harry leaned forward with an intent gaze that made Ron suddenly nervous. "Draco didn't charm me...but I am his studpuppet...and it's working out great. We're awesome in the sack together...legendary actually. I pound him into the mattress like a porn star and he makes me feel like God. Orgasms, Ron, we have them...lots of them...whole pots of 'em, we rattle 'em off like machine guns. He's got an ass that never quits and I love getting in it!"

Ron suddenly slid out of his chair and moved toward the door, white and shaking. "'Mione...gotta go...c'mon love...open the door, PLEASE!"

"Ron, thats just what he wants! He doesn't want to talk about this and he's trying to run you off! Harry, please relax, we just want to know what's going on and help you if we can."

"LET HIM, LOVE! I don't think I can handle this. It's bloody working already. I can't hear this!" Ron looked vaguely green about the gills. Harry stifled a chuckle as he thought of how that clashed with Ron's red hair.

"RON...sit and relax, breathe deep, you'll be fine. Let me do the talking. Harry, it's obvious there are some parts to this we don't understand. If you share just a little of them maybe we'd be able to understand this better. Please, love?"

"Alright already...fine...fuck it...here's every shred of my personal life. You want it, you got it. Malfoy and I shagged after that party two weeks ago; we couldn't get it out of our minds after that. Even through a blur of Firewhiskey, we were really good together. We made it about a week before we cracked and tried to yank the memories out using a Pensieve. I watched him break down and cry when he saw the memories of us together that night. I couldn't take it...just watching him, hurting and alone, like that. We've been together ever since.

I think I always wanted him. We were just trained to act like prats to each other so it kept us apart. As soon as we let all that old shite go, everything was perfect. I love him, Hermione. I mean really love him, like he's air and I've been drowning all my life. He's not like you think. The way he acts is all about surviving in the Slytherin snakepit. Take that away and he's the sweetest person I've ever met.

If you two spill this to anyone he could get hurt...and if either of you hurt him or get him in trouble down there, I swear I'll never forgive you. He needs me. I wanted to tell you...I did...really, but I knew there'd be some fucked up scene like this and I didn't want that. OF COURSE I GOT IT ANYWAY! Thank you very much! There! Happy?" Harry took a deep breath and looked at his silent and stunned friends. "Well? Cat got your tongues? Or will I need a new battery of magic tests?"

Like always, Hermione rallied first. "Harry, I'm sorry. I just didn't know. You didn't tell us anything. We'd no idea you felt that way about him. It's just, with a war on and all, we kind of saw evil plots where there weren't any. I guess it makes sense, kind of. Are you sure he loves you as much as you love him?"

"Hermione, I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. He's actually brilliant and sweet and funny when we're alone together. You really don't know him...but I'd like you to. I'll have to tell him about this...then we can all meet together sometime. I want you guys to know him like I do...(the image of a naked Draco, ankles around Harry's shoulders, suddenly flashed through Harry's mind)well, not quite like I know him, but better than now.

Let me prove it. Here's some things we thought we knew about Draco. One, he doesn't 'do' Gryffindors, two...he doesn't have 'boyfriends', three...he doesn't care about anything but his status, four...he doesn't buy people gifts to say he cares. Now you know he's got a boyfriend...who's a Gryffindor...that could ruin his position in Slytherin...and look at this."

Harry pulled out the necklace beneath his shirt and held it up before them for inspection. "He had it made for me. This is one of a kind and it cost a bloody fortune. So what does that tell you?"

Ron looked a little worse for wear, but calmer and a little amazed. Hermione looked at the silver griffon and serpent, absorbing the tiny details in its flawless craftsmanship.

"Wow! Harry...I don't know what to say. I have to talk to him before all this sits right with me, but I guess Ron and I were wrong. I don't know about a lot of this, but I trust you. I believe you and if you say it's love I have to just accept it. This is still a 'freak out' of epic proportions, but I guess it's for real. Ron? You think you could manage meeting this 'real Malfoy' and play it cool?"

"Wheeew...Harry, you're still my mate, right? I know we buggered this all for a lark, but we're still good, right?"

"Yeah, Ron, I guess we are. You should know something else. He said some really nice things about your family after I told him about living at the Dursley's and your folks taking me in. If you start off nice you might get on fine with him. Just please try to remember that the things he used to do were his cover in Slytherin. No grudges, right?"

"Right then, wait...he said nice things about my folks? Sheesh...'Mione, we shoulda checked Malfoy for spells, not Harry! Just kidding mate...that's cool. I can meet him if he doesn't start off like the prat I remember. Say...Harry? Got an idea. If a night with you can make Malfoy a sweetheart, you MUST be bloody phenomenal in the sack...maybe we should get some candles and wine and hook you up with The Dark Lord. Let you shag the evil right out of him, whole war over in a weekend. It's brilliant!"

Ron's face had a forced cheerfulness, but he was holding back laughter at his own joke. Hermione had blanched momentarily, but was also holding in her laughter until she knew if Harry was okay with it.

Harry was silent for a few pained seconds, then lost it entirely. Then it was just the three of them together again, laughing so hard they cried. He was annoyed with them, quite a bit actually, but gods did he love them. Maybe this could be salvaged after all, as soon as he could breath again! He laughed so hard his side had a stitch that ached when he gasped for air. 

"That's rich...I can see it now, Ron! Bloody Hell...get this...'I Was A Teenage Gigolo For The Auror Service'...movie of the week...", he pounded the table choking for a moment, "...seriously, mate...don't mention that one to the Order...they'll have me shagging every Death Eater in Azkaban! Instead of the bloody Kiss, they'll sentence 'em all to 'The Shag'! Draco'd be furious if I came back too tired for him!" 

Hermione wiped her eyes and recovered just enough to throw her own jibe in. "All this time scouring ancients texts for a way to finish this war, who knew the secret weapon was in your pants all along!?" 

They laughed a little longer, then spoke seriously about the future. Ron and Hermione promised to meet Draco in the week to come, and Harry swore they wouldn't regret it. They'd keep his and Draco's secrets like they kept the Order's, faithfully and well. A little luck and he'd have his boyfriend and his best friends getting on fine.

Harry left the study room with a sense of confidence back in place and carrying him high. He hoped things were going half as well for Draco. It worried him, thinking of his love, stuck in a viper's nest of backstabbing Slytherins. Draco deserved so much more, but nothing could change the situation until they got their schooling out of the way.

Harry dragged out some his homework and sat down in the commons, reading what he had to, writing what he needed, and saying hello to his classmates as they passed through. Not a bad Sunday really. At least it was only one night until he could see Draco again...and after a night alone in his own bed he'd be ready to see Draco in more ways than one.

Draco reached the Slytherin commons feeling giddier than even the week before. He was wonderfully sore, yet completely relaxed. He'd really pushed himself to surpass limits he didn't even know existed, and the reward was this afterglow that just didn't quit. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to shag anyone else again. All he wanted now was Harry, and somehow everyone else fell so far short of that mark now.

He was downright cheery when he strode through Slytherin House. He went to his quarters and carefully stowed his most beloved treasure in his trunk. Once it was securely locked and warded by magic, he tracked down Crabbe and Goyle and held court for a while. A few minor disputes needed settling among the younger years, but nothing serious.

It had seemed awfully quiet lately, or perhaps it was just that he was gone a lot more lately. Either way, it mattered little to him, this kind of nonsense was a waste of precious time that would be better spent snogging Harry witless, and it was only pretense that kept him here.

Blaise stopped by, hinting that a repeat of last week's shag might be fun, and Draco let him down easy, sticking to the implied and 'safe' story that he'd just shagged someone who was quite good and didn't need any help right now, and further had no intention of sharing this mystery partner with anyone, so that he could selfishly keep the 'goods' all for himself. Truthfully, for once, he wasn't even that horny for the day after a date. That double morning shag he'd gotten from Harry had left him utterly soothed.

When his duties as Slytherin's leader were out of the way, he dragged Crabbe and Goyle off to town for a few rounds and some chocolates. The big lugs might be a little slow, but loyalty should be rewarded after all...he even told Blaise and Pansy to join him later at The Three Broomsticks if they wanted a few rounds on his tab.

It was a good night to celebrate, even if he was the only one who knew why! He wished they all could feel the way he did inside. That all of them could be as happy as he was, and maybe he couldn't change this shitty world, but he wasn't going to waste another minute making it worse.

Word got out that quite the Slytherin Bash was being held in town. Free Butterbeers for almost anyone! It was a great party and almost everyone old enough to go to town showed up. One who did not show up moved quietly through the seventh year dorms of Slytherin...one specific room on his mind.

The Locking Spell on the room was standard and easily removed. The spells on Draco Malfoy's trunk were tougher...and more dangerous. One did not toy with Malfoy's possessions lightly. That was alright though. The wanderer had a very special potion. It was quite rare and exceedingly hard to brew. He may not have that bitch Malfoy's knack for kissing Snape's ass, but he could brew a mean potion when he set his mind to it...and his mind was set on this. 

This potion corroded magic the way an acid would corrode metal. It was quick and silent and the magic that locked and guarded Malfoy's trunk was gone in less than a minute. Malfoy's nemesis rifled through the trunk and found the prize he was looking for. What little jewel could hold so much value to one so rich?

In the twinkling depths of the jewel he saw something he almost couldn't believe. How absolutely perfect! Slytherin's Slut was Gryffindor's Whore!? Malfoy had just tendered his resignation as the leader of Slytherin House and didn't even know it! Ohhhh...when the others saw this it would be past time for a coup, and he would be ready to step in and lead Slytherin as it ought to be led!

He pocketed the jewel and closed the trunk. The Locking Spell on the door was replaced and all was silent in the seventh year dorm as one very happy man walked away.


	15. Green Eyes

"All I Ever Wanted" ....Chap. 15 'Green Eyes'

 

The bash he'd held at The Three Broomsticks had been pretty grand. He wished he could have had Harry beside him that night, but that would have been begging for trouble. Still, what a night! Two Sunday morning rounds of Harry shagging him almost daft, topped by chocolates and a party! In spite of all the little hassles, this really was turning out to be one of the best years of his life!

Draco vaguely remembered stumbling in to his bed, virtuously alone (and what a thought that was! A Virtuous Slytherin! The notion was pure paradox, but it was true none the less.) and drifting to sleep on a sea of Butterbeer and dreams of green eyes.

At least he hadn't been as drunk as two weeks ago. He remembered every detail of a party that had gone just swimmingly. Morning did find him faster than expected, though. He was an early riser by nature, but a bladder full of Butterbeer was trying to work it's way out, and that forced his eyelids open. Just as well, since it was Monday and classes were back in session. 

He drifted into the bathroom of his suite and made use of the facilities. Idly, he mused over ideas for new presents for Harry. Some really sexy new clothes...maybe a trip to Malkin's for something tailored just right. He won either way...credit for giving a present AND the added pleasure of seeing Harry in something sharp! That had potential.

A lengthy shower and a few morning rituals saw Draco looking into the mirror at his very best. Primped and preened to perfection, his hair an artfully unkempt crown of spiky blond strands, his clothes and robes unwrinkled and fit for a king. More appropriately perhaps, fit for the Slytherin Prince. Still, he had an hour or so before breakfast, he could spare a few minutes to himself. Time to gaze into Harry's awe inspiring gift. That man had the soul of a poet! 

Draco headed to the trunk that held his personal belongings. Alarm flared through his chest as he realized the special wards he had placed were gone! He cast a fast Tracer Spell to see who might have spelled it open and drew a complete blank. No spell was used in opening it. He sprung the trunk open and quickly checked the contents. His jewel! HIS FUCKING JEWEL WAS GONE! Some abysmal bastard had stolen Harry's gift! 

A shade of the old Malfoy wrath flowed over him. If he found the guilty party, their suffering would become a legend in hell! This was intolerable! The worst part was that he'd have to investigate on the sly, since he couldn't very well just blurt out what had been stolen. Still, if he guarded the door to Slytherin closely, he could check pockets by spell and see if anyone was carrying it about...then...then some poor, stupid bastard would suffer a fate that would make demons weep! 

Draco stormed out of his suite in a flurry of robes, his face a murderous mask as he stalked the curiously empty halls of the seventh year dorms. He exploded into the common area, intent on taking a position near the main entrance from the dungeon hall, when he noticed that quite a crowd of students were present in the commons.

Just as he turned to address them in the harshest possible tone, he heard the murmured spell that struck him dead in the back. A fucking Petrificus! Just great! Frozen solid because he was too pissed to be watching his own back. He didn't see Crabbe or Goyle around either. Damn...this could be bad! Then Theodore Nott stepped into his field of vision.

"How low the mighty have fallen, eh, Draco? See these good people here? They've been made aware of just how far you've strayed. Yeah! They know you've made a complete mockery of everything this house is supposed to stand for! Slytherin's grand history is in shambles thanks to a sorry little whore that offers it up to the first Gryffindork to pull it out in front of him!"

Draco could feel sweat beading on his head, but the spell had him locked up. This was bad...very bad! Nott was almost raving now, and it only showed signs of getting worse.

"You couldn't say no could you? It was a dick...you had to jump on it! Everyone in the school who isn't in Slytherin already calls you the Slytherin Slut. Why not prove them right? Oh yeah, I remember now! HOUSE FUCKING PRIDE! Have you ever heard of that you filthy little ponce! Of course you haven't, the only thing you ever cared about was lording it over the rest of us. Hexes for anyone that crossed your path or just bored you, but you had plenty of time to bow and scrape in front of Potter as soon as the lights are out."

Angry mutters were coming from the swelling crowd of students as they stepped closer. Nott wasn't even looking at Draco anymore, he was aiming his words for the crowd. Draco had a few million choice things to say, but his mouth was frozen with the rest of him. He knew he was well and rightly fucked...in a way he wouldn't relish in the morning.

"This farce ends today! No more kowtowing to the whims of a snarky little fairy who spends more time on his hair than on his house! No more hexes without just cause for punishment decreed by a chosen leader! No more watching our pride run roughshod over while other houses snicker at us! It's time to take back our house! WHO'S WITH ME!" The crowd roared and Theodore Nott grinned ear to ear. This was his golden moment! 

He kicked Draco's legs out from under him, watching Draco crash helplessly to the floor. Then he kicked Draco directly in the stomach. Draco was frozen, he couldn't even react to the injuries inflicted on him. Maybe that made Nott crazier, but either way, he kept kicking. Before long, others joined in, a few at first, then more, then nearly all. Draco had no choice but to lie frozen and take it. Fists, knees, feet and even girls using books. Most of Slytherin had taken a turn before it was over. 

He could feel things, important things, breaking in him. He knew he was bleeding an awful lot, and he was pretty sure his nose was broken...the blood kept sliding down his throat. Maybe he deserved this. Maybe he needed to just die and get out of this living hell. His father had been right. Love couldn't keep you safe...and he'd thrown away power and influence. This is what he got for his foolish weakness.

His mind was flickering out when the only tiny solace he received was a gentle daydream about green eyes that brimmed with love. Then there was darkness and he was at peace.

Snape sat in his office preparing the potion ingredients for the day's classes. A sudden banging on the door interrupted his work and immediately incensed him. He headed for the door with his sternest scowl in place, only to find a note on the floor of an empty hallway. Snape picked up the note and with an air of irritation he scanned it quickly. "Sir, come to Slytherin commons right away! A student is in serious danger! Please come immediately."

Snape folded the note into his pocket and marched swiftly and directly to the entrance of Slytherin House. He would see to this nonsense swiftly enough. As soon as Snape was in the door, he saw the body in the center of the room. He took in the scene in less than a second.

A severely battered Draco Malfoy lay still, blood pooling near his head and mouth. The room was empty of students, all had gone to breakfast. Snape crossed the room in a heartbeat and swept Malfoy into his arms after casting a few brief Healing Spells to stabilize the boy. His wand was still in hand despite the burden he carried, and with a few muttered curses he whisked them both to the hospital ward.

Harry sat in their 'special' suite waiting for Draco. He hadn't seen Draco all day, and he was starting to worry more than usual. There had been a party for Slytherin at The Three Broomsticks last night, and Harry had heard the rumors. Nothing bad, just fun for all. When Draco hadn't shown for their early Potions class (the only class they still shared), Harry hadn't found it surprising. A couple students were rumored to have wicked hangovers. Draco was probably saving his strength for their private time, a thought that left Harry grinning with anticipation. 

The usual Slytherin suspects were all pretty silent today, though, and that was passing strange. Snape had looked angrier than usual, but hadn't seemed to notice Harry at all. That was very odd. All in all, the whole day had been a little off, not in a bad way, just quietly different. But now it was almost an hour since Draco's last class and he still wasn't here.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that they had no way to pass messages to each other. How would Draco tell him if he was sick or couldn't come. Harry sweated it out a few more minutes, until he remembered his Map. He laid it out on the desk and activated it, then scanned for any sign of Draco. When he saw where Draco was located his eyes widened for just a second, then he folded the map and left the room in a flash.

Harry was out of breath by the time he reached the hospital wing. He hammered the doors with the strength he had left, desperate to find out why Draco was in there. Finally, Madam Pomfrey opened the door with a look of fierce protectiveness on her face. "Mister Potter, if you please! Stop that racket this instant. This is a place of healing and I certainly expect better of you!"

Harry suddenly realized he'd have to play very nice or show his hand a little more if he was going to get in to see Draco. "Madam Pomfrey, I'm really sorry, I just panicked a little. Draco is okay, isn't he? Is he awake? Has he asked for me?"

Her eyes narrowed a bit, "And what precisely do you know of this, Harry Potter?" Her tone was serious, and that didn't bode well.

"Nothing! That's why I'm here. I heard he was in hospital and I came to see him. I just need to know he's okay. Please! Tell me something...anything!" Harry was getting seriously worried, a thread of panic was quickly starting to move through him.

"Wait right here. I shall send Professor Snape out to talk to you. I should only tell you that young Mr. Malfoy is alive and will recover, but the matter is quite serious. That's all I can tell you. Professor Snape shall have to decide what you can or cannot be told."

"That's not fair! What's he got to do with this! Please let me just see Draco for a minute! Half a minute!" Harry was starting to tear up despite his best efforts. 

"I'm sorry, Harry, the matter isn't in my hands. I would have turned anyone else away. Wait. The Professor will be with you shortly."

Harry collapsed onto one of the benches in despair. He was sick of this silent fraud he had to commit every day. Something had happened to Draco and he couldn't even see him! It was sickening. Worst, he'd have to face Snape to get even a little information. Harry didn't have to wait long. Madam Pomfrey was gone only a few minutes before Snape stepped out of the hospital's doors with an expression of nearly pure loathing on his face.

"Mr. Potter, it stands to reason that you are in some way connected to this. When disaster strikes you never seem to be far away or far behind...which is considerably more than I can say for your studies. I will ask you a series of questions. If you answer them to my satisfaction, I may be willing to discuss a measure of what has transpired with Draco, but rest assured that I will only do so if it furthers Draco's interests, not yours. Are you clear on this?"

"Yes, Professor! Whatever you want. I just need to know he's okay. I want to see him for a minute. I have to...he has to be all right. If you can get me in to see him, I'll tell you anything I know that could help!"

Snape was visibly taken aback by the miserable, tight tone of Harry's voice and the near total subservience in Harry's response. "What do you know of what happened to Draco today?"

"Only that he was in the hospital ward. I heard a rumor he was here about ten minutes ago. I came as fast as I could. I didn't think it would be serious, I just thought he'd be sick...and now all this!" Harry was struggling to keep his self control. Snape's icy gaze never wavered.

"I received a note almost an hour before my first class today; did you write such a note, or do you know of the party that may have written it?" Snape's voice was ice and iron.

"No. I don't know anything about a note. I didn't see him all day. When I heard he was here, I came. That was just in the last ten minutes. I don't know anything. I just need to see him...please...please help me, Professor." 

"Mr. Potter, please stick to answering my questions or this discussion is over. Are you or have been involved in any plot to harm Draco Malfoy...or do you know of any sound reason why another person would?" Harry's face was torn...his eyes were starting to burn from the effort of holding back his tears. The moment of silence was not lost on Snape for a second. "Mr. Potter! Answer the question now! This matter is too important for your petty games to disrupt!"

"No! I would never hurt him, not now and not ever." Harry finally tipped over the edge, he started to lose it...in front of Snape! "I only know one reason why someone would hurt him. Because of me...he's...he...Draco's my boyfriend...I love him...now he's hurt and I can't see him. We kept it a secret so he wouldn't get hurt. I have to see him! Please...I'm begging you, okay! I can't stand not knowing what happened to him. Please just let me see him!" Tears were streaming down his face, all semblence of dignity lost. He didn't care what it took, he just had to see his love.

Snape sighed. This was worse than he'd imagined. He had expected a coup of some kind or an inter-house rivalry gone too far. This was not on the list of possible discoveries he had mentally made hours ago. Still, Potter seemed utterly without guile, for once, and as mad as it sounded there was no reason for Potter to invent such a fiction. 

Snape was well aware that young Malfoy was gay, and though that concerned him not at all, the fact that his protégé and favorite student, who had taken much of the work of overseeing Slytherin House off Snape's hands, was a phenomenally gifted student and a godchild to the professor, did concern him. Given Potter's rather pitiful state, perhaps a certain small amount of kindness was warranted.

"Very well. Here is what I can tell you. Draco Malfoy was beaten nearly to death this morning just before breakfast. The injuries he sustained are numerous and serious. He very nearly died. A note was left for me informing me that a student was in danger in the Slytherin common room, and that is how I found him. Perhaps an hour later and he would certainly have expired. I have made inquiries as to what happened and have met with silence. The primary spells used for this kind of thing have had results that are inconclusive as to who did this. I can now only assume that someone unearthed knowledge of this (ahem) relationship you have with Draco and meted out punishment. In a roundabout way I was correct. Once again you have brought disaster down on someone else's head. This time in my own house!" 

Harry looked stricken...and couldn't seem to get words through the sobs that were starting to form in his chest. All Snape wanted was to blame this idiot boy for his godchild's near death, but something stopped him cold. He had avoided Potter for years just for this reason. Those green eyes were staring up at him, begging for mercy...absolution...help of any kind. Eyes that mirrored a pair he hadn't seen in twenty years. Lily's eyes. Her child, her only child, the very one she had died saving because of Severus' youthful idiocy.

It hurt, and he lashed out when he hurt, but those eyes were taunting him with an error he had made a lifetime ago. Snape had to do something to make it stop...he was shaking with anger at Harry, at himself, at James Potter...all of it was boiling inside him. He clenched his will and drove his feelings down. Just this once a shred of mercy showed. 

He pulled Potter up by the shoulders and leaned close, boring directly into Harry's eyes. "He will be alright. The injuries were purely non-magical, the worst have been healed. He will be here for perhaps a second day at most, and he will be very sore for days to come. If you care for him so deeply, you may go to him, but do not place him in danger again. I am not so casual with the lives of my charges as you apparently are with the lives of those you profess to care for. Tend to him until he wakes, then...then do as you will, but involve yourself in my investigation into this and I shall have you commanded to remain in Gryffindor tower until I am done. Now GO!"

Harry was dumbfounded, and the look of appreciation and gratitude he gave Snape would have moved a heart even stonier than the professor's. "Thank you...thank you." And with that Harry was through the doors and gone.

Snape was done for tonight. This...this was too much. He needed a stiff drink...and a lengthy series of others to follow...if he wanted to drive a pair of green eyes out of his mind tonight. He walked slowly down the halls to his quarters, his lost Lily at the forefront of his mind with every tired step.


	16. How Draco Got His Groove Back

"All I Ever Wanted" chap.16

Harry sat beside Draco's bed in horror. The angelic face that had made his last two weeks hell, and then heaven, was almost unrecognizable from bruising and swelling. Draco seemed to be a mass of bandages. This was MOSTLY healed?

His lover...his only love...ever, was lucky to be alive. This was Harry's fault. He'd pulled Draco into this and he'd gotten him hurt. Like Sirius, like his parents, like everything he touched. He should have been more careful. His own friends had figured out Harry's secrets, and so had Draco's enemy or enemies.

He held the still, cool hand of his unconscious love in his own while he cried for what felt like hours. He was dazed with lack of sleep when Madam Pomfrey came to administer a few last spells before retiring for the night. She allowed him to stay only because Snape had left him here and that must have taken a handful of miracles.

She rattled off a few Healing Spells for specific areas...and some of the outrageous swelling seemed to diminish slowly, then tucked the frail blonde's sheets in and wished Harry a good night, a look of pity and concern on her tired and lined face.

When she had gone, Harry mentally went over the handful of Healing Spells he knew. Only a few were right for this occasion, and all took personal effort and were very tiring for the caster. It was the nature of healing magic, the more specific, the more personal and involved. Harry didn't care what it took, his lover would be better than this when he woke in the morning.

He began to utter the spells he knew one after another, starting at the top of Draco's head and slowly working his way down, one injury, one spell at a time. He saw black fade to purple to blue to red and then finally to naught. He saw cuts shrink with painstaking slowness. He chain-cast them, spell after spell, each one dragging more effort and more magic than the last.

Almost three hours later, his vision blurring, swaying unsteadily, Harry tried to cast again and found himself sliding downwards to the floor. His last thought as consciousness left him was, "I'm sorry, Draco, I tried...love you."

When morning came, Madam Pomfrey opened her ward and began her daily routine of checking patients and preparing bandages and potions for sudden common ailments. When she looked upon Draco Malfoy she almost dropped her wand. There were a few bruises on his exposed skin, but they looked no worse than a simple fall might produce. This in no way resembled the boy she had left last night. 

She had exhausted herself, as well as Snape, setting the broken ribs and nose, repairing the smashed fingerbones and the crushed toes, and restoring the blood to a near normal level. That had been exhausting labor even with help, thus she left the tissue damage for later treatment. Here was a boy who had evidently healed overnight injuries that might well have lasted weeks without the application of healing magic. 

Then she saw a foot on the floor near the bed. As she stepped forward, she saw the pale form of Harry Potter, wand fallen from his hand, collapsed upon the floor. She quickly Levitated the unconscious boy into the bed next to Malfoy's and cast a series of diagnostic spells. Magical shock. Specifically, 'Healer's Drain'. Although this was the worst case she had ever seen in anyone other than a battlefield medi-witch!

The boy had tapped so much of his own strength and magic to work Healing Spells that he'd put himself in serious jeopardy of dying. Most people fell long before they reached that point. It took enormous will to reach such a serious state. Trust Potter to reach it.

She began the slow infusions of magical energy that would heal this malady. She had nothing supplied for such an unusual ailment, and last night had tired even her, but she continued until he was stable and breathing normally. Then she began to write up reports on the matter and sip some urgently needed and uplifting tea.

It was after noon when Draco stirred to consciousness. He was sore from head to toe. He remembered why and faintly felt raw amazement at the fact that he was thinking at all. A lot of those stray kicks had been to the head. Then he realized he was just sore... just sore?! 

He peeled his eyes open and blinked owlishly. He tried to sit up, but he was still terribly light headed. Madam Pomfrey saw him stirring from across the room and came quickly to his side.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are a very fortunate lad. If Professor Snape had not found you so quickly, you most certainly would have died. We worked quite hard to stabilize you yesterday and then it appears that, for whatever reason, young Mr. Potter spent half the night and nearly his own life healing the rest of your injuries." 

Draco turned and saw Harry's pale and slumbering form in the bed next to his. His heart fell. Harry, his Harry, was half dead from healing him. It should never have happened this way. His last thoughts from the beating were still with him. If he'd been just a little less of a weak and selfish idiot this never would have happened. They'd been playing with fire and both got burned. It was hard to speak, his chest hurt inside and out. He managed a croaked, "Will he be alright?"

"Oh, don't worry for him. Harry's quite resilient, been here a dozen times and always a fast healer. He'll likely be out of it until tomorrow afternoon. A few days of treatment and he'll be back in classes good as new. Now just you lie there and rest while I get some potions for those aches." She toddled off to her work desks and began drawing forth ingredients. 

Draco sighed and sat back, staring at the face of his love. Poor Harry. This whole thing had been doomed from the start. Too much of that famous Potter optimism had infected him. He'd let himself think he deserved a happy life, even though everything in the world would only try to crush it. It was over, this place would kill them if they tried to be together...and Harry had something bigger to do.

As soon as he had his strength back, he'd leave this school that held no place for him or his love. Give Harry back the life he deserved. Go home to the Manor and make his peace with holding onto a faded family crest and a tattered reputation. He'd wasted his life for too long before, it was too late to have salvaged it and he had just been too much a fool to see it. 

Draco had visitors later that day, just after classes had let out. Crabbe and Goyle, sheepish and shameful, looking like kicked dogs, slunk in and sat on either side of him. Draco remained silent, simmering with bitterness. 

At last, Goyle spoke haltingly. "They got us in the hall, it was Petrificus. Stuffed us in a closet. Told us you were done, an' if we got in the way later, they'd give us what for worse than you." Crabbe nodded quietly in agreement. "We're sorry, Drake, we didn't even see it coming."

Draco sighed, at least they had stuck with the him to the best of their limited ability. "Greg, Vince...join up with him. Take care of yourselves and just pretend you didn't really like me. It'll go easier for you. I'm done. I just don't care anymore. Thanks for at least not being there to kick me when I fell."

Goyle looked at him like he'd just seen Malfoy grow a second head. "Follow Nott? They musta kicked you daft or something. Nott's a raving prat. Sod him!"

Crabbe nodded sheepishly. "Aye, sod the lot of 'em. Still, I gotta know, was it all true...'bout you an' Potty Scarhead?"

Draco nodded assent. "It's true. I'm sorry I let you guys down. You trusted me to lead you to glory and got this instead. This is my fault, no one else needs to catch any more hell for this."

Goyle smiled, the effect was always ghoulish, but it was a nice gesture. "Only one question then. Were you happy? I mean really happy. Was that whatcha wanted?"

Draco was floored, but maybe there was no harm is spilling it all now. None of it really mattered anymore. "Yeah, I really was. I don't think I've ever felt that good in my entire life. It was stupid, to risk everything for that, but in some ways it was worth every kick, maybe even a hundred more. You...you two aren't mad at me for screwing this all up, for dating Harry, any of it?"

Goyle shook his head, Crabbe followed suit a second later. Draco's jaw almost came unhinged again for the first time since Saturday night! Then Goyle started talking again. 

"Vince an' me talked about it earlier. It's been a good time knowing you. You always were good to us. An'...an' we know you didn't really need us that much. You coulda done it all alone. You took us along with you all the way to the top. Shouldn't complain now just cuz the rides over."

Draco started misting up, shaking his head in disbelief. "What did I ever do that was that good? I used you two like hired thugs. I never did anything to deserve all this."

Crabbe broke in. "Third year...I snuck in Firewhiskey and drank the whole pint. You held my head for over an hour while I threw it all up."

Goyle grinned. "And the time I got shot down by a girl I liked fourth year and locked myself in that closet. You talked me out of hiding there forever even though it took half your Sunday off."

It was Crabbe next. "We'd never have made it past fifth year and into higher courses without you helping us. I know you called us names at the time, but you still helped."

Back to Goyle yet again. "And chocolates and Butterbeer, and getting us dates, and covering up for us when we got in trouble, and parties we'd never a gone to if you hadn't brought us. Shite! Draco, it's been the best time we ever had. It was all you. We just wanted to say thanks. We figure if you wanna shag Scarboy then you must have a good reason. An'...an'...", Goyle almost seemed to choke on the words. "...well, we aren't gay, an' you oughtta be with someone good to you, all we want is to know that you're happy. It's Potter an' all, but if he's the one, then bugger it...or bugger him I guess, but fuck all, we don't care if you shag Dumbledore as long you're our friend." It was possibly the longest speech Gregory Goyle had ever made, and the effort tired him out visibly.

Draco cracked his first smile. He closed his eyes a moment. He'd actually been ready to quit a minute ago. Somehow, these two lunkheads just put the spark back in him. If they hadn't been butt ugly, he'd have thrown them some serious kisses and possibly a couple blow jobs to boot, if he hadn't had a boyfriend in the bed next to him in need of attention (after he took care of a few pests)!

He opened his eyes and looked at his pals with a hint of his old ferocity. "Right then, you two...you're the fucking best, the...fucking...best...got that!" Two quick nods of the head replied.

"I'm making a plan here. This sorry for myself shite is tired, but nowhere near as tired as Nott's gonna be when I get done. Alright, they left my wand, but that's identifiable by magical means. If I use it for this I'm busted. I need you to break into the DADA classroom and pluck two generic student wands for me. Then follow the directions I give you to a room on the sixth floor. I'm gonna spell you so you can get in and see the door. I'm the one that warded it. I'm betting there's a nice looking old cloak on a hook just inside the door. If there is...bring it! Bring the cloak and the wands to me as soon as possible tonight. Just leave them with me. When's Nott holding court?"

"Tomorrow morning. Just before breakfast. Attendance mandatory...bloody prat." Crabbe grumped.

"I'm making it unmandatory for you two. Be in the hall ready to go in tomorrow, when I show up I'll fill in the rest. That's the plan...get moving!" They bobbed their heads in twin salutes and headed out.

Malfoys always rally when the chips are down! Draco had his groove back, and he wasn't letting it slip so easily this time. He plotted silently, rolling over lists of hexes he'd been learning for longer than he'd been in school. The icy, nagging voice of his father assailed him again, but this time he wasn't listening. 'Fuck you, Father...when I'm done doing this MY WAY, I'm gonna find my boyfriend and he's going to shag me 'til we're both in here again!'

As he rolled over for a nap, facing Harry, he felt the crinkle of paper beneath him. The note he unfolded was interesting. Apparently someone had slipped in earlier and left it.

"D. I sent a note to Snape to get you out of there alive, won't risk my ass any more than that, but wouldn't let a class act and legendary lay go to waste either, would I? Yours, B." 

Blaise, bless the horny bastard's heart. Funny that of all the people he'd shagged from Slytherin, the straight boy was the one who had at least a little loyalty and gratitude. He drifted into slumber, thoughts of Harry waking to see him easing his still-working mind.


	17. A Dish Served Cold

All I Ever Wanted" chap. 17 'A Dish Served Cold'

 

Draco was dressing himself in the hospital ward, straightening his robes and adjusting his tie. He'd have loved to have perfect hair for this, but he didn't have the time.

He mulled over the previous night's events. Crabbe and Goyle did their part, he had the Cloak and two student practice wands. They'd been further instructed to pass the word to Blaise and ONLY Blaise that this morning's meeting would go better for him if he were close to an exit. 

Snape had come by late last night, pleasantly surprised to find Draco awake, then started into a stern lecture on his having tempted the 'wrath of the gods' by dating Harry.

Draco had patiently waited until it was finished, then politely informed the professor that; this sort of thing would not be happening again, that Harry was his boyfriend now and forever, and that if Snape didn't like it, that was a problem that could only be fixed by correcting his own attitude. Snape took it well, in light of Harry's collapse from Healer's Drain, and he'd actually gotten the cagey old crow to 'turn his head the other way' during this morning's meeting so Draco could work unhindered. He did have to promise not to use any Unforgivables or leave any bodies, but he hadn't intended to anyway. 

Lessons only stick to the living. He wanted a revenge that would live in the fear his enemies felt every day for the rest of their lives. Deaths would be a hollow victory for him next to that. It was almost time.

He turned to look at Harry's still pale face and leaned close, "I'll be back, Harry, I'll make you proud of me. I love you." He kissed the cool cheek and lips of his lover and stood up. Draco whisked the Cloak over his shoulders and vanished from sight, the only trace of his departure the seemingly inexplicable opening and closing of the hospital ward doors.

At the entrance to Slytherin's common room, Crabbe and Goyle were waiting nervously. It was less than five minutes until the meeting and no Draco in sight. They shuffled nervously, wondering if something had gone really wrong. Then Draco's head popped out of the air in front of them, smiling in the wicked way they'd come to miss the last couple weeks. It gave them a start, but Draco wasn't wasting any time.

"Right on time. In a few minutes you'll hear a lot going on, but I want you two to keep this door spiked shut, and keep chain-casting Locking Spells on it one after another. When ten minutes have gone by, remove the spells. No one gets out until ten minutes are up! Understood?" They nodded. 

"Good...seen Snape around?" Two heads shook in unison. "You won't, either...took care of that last night. Last but not least, is Blaise on his way to let me in discreetly?" Goyle gave him a final thumbs up as they heard footsteps approaching. Draco whisked the Cloak over his head again and waited. Blaise Zabini strolled casually down the hallway toward the door. He gave Crabbe and Goyle a silent thumbs up before uttering the password and stepping through into the commons, an unseen passenger following along just behind.

Draco slipped in behind behind Zabini and scanned the room. Blaise was moving toward the dorm's exit, the rest of the room was packed with students, and that insipid, thumb-dicked bastard, Theo Nott, was sitting in Draco's chair! He'd have hexed the smarmy fuck right there...if he hadn't had a bigger point to prove.

Draco moved around the edge of the crowd, finding a spot that offered good aim and a safe wall behind him. Then Nott rose and began the meeting. All heads turned to him, and he looked like he was lapping it up like honey.

"A great day for Slytherin! First order of the day is the absence of Crabbe and Goyle. They clearly show open disloyalty to this house, and everyone in it, by not showing up today as all of you have. I declare open season on them! No punishments will be placed upon those who hex or harass them inside these walls. For my second order of business..."

Draco dropped the Cloak. Zabini yanked Pansy through the dorm exit and slammed it behind him. From his vantage point against the wall, Theo Nott was looking right at Draco when he appeared out of nowhere, not a scratch to be seen on the face they'd ruined the morning before. Theo gaped silently, horrified by the smiling visage against the wall, then others began to look as well and gawk in surprise. 

Draco raised his twin wands. "OH I'M SORRY, DID I BREAK YOUR CONCENTRATION?!" Gods, but he loved Muggle cinema.

Nott made a scarcely detectable twitch toward his wand. 

Slytherin House descended into chaos.

 

Outside, in the hall of the dungeon, Crabbe and Goyle wondered what was happening. It had been dead silent over a minute. Then the first screams began. The faint tremor of dozens of feet running, the sizzle of hexes filling the air behind that great stone door.

They started to chain-cast Locking Charms one on top of another. The screams reached a crescendo. Over it all, they heard the voice of Draco Malfoy in full roar. 

"YOU ARE ALL MY FUCKING BITCHES!" 

Following that outburst another series of hex blasts struck noisily. More screams, more feet running, the sound of children crying, they heard hands pounding on the exit desperately seeking safety. They kept casting the Locking Charms, never breaking pace, one after the other, ignoring the madness that was separated from them by only a foot of weathered stone.

Draco was blocking hexes with one wand, throwing them furiously with the other and walking sideways to stay a moving target. His lips were working frantically to utter hexes and counterspells with the quickness needed to supply two wands with ammo. He cast without discretion or mercy at anyone he'd seen that Monday morning, allowing the youngest and least involved to flee for the dorms.

Some fell quickly, some he stalked like a blood crazed panther and he took them all the more viciously for his effort. In the center of the room was Theodore Nott, bound in writhing snakes that rose from the floor, holding his limbs tight, keeping him safe for last. It was time for another pep talk.

"AND YOU WILL KNOW...MY NAME IS MALFOY...WHEN I LAY...MY...VENGEANCE UPON THEE!" Then he went back to work.

Ten minutes later, all that was left was a room full of groaning, weeping, aching children. Only Draco still stood in the room, eyes blazing like grey storm clouds as he sauntered toward the supine form of Theodore Nott. He pulled Nott's head up by the hair. "I want you to say something for me. Tell me...who runs Slytherin House?"

Nott was stricken with panic. "Draco runs Slytherin House," he murmured in defeat. 

"NOW TELL THEM ALL! WHO RUNS SLYTHERIN HOUSE?"

Nott shrieked it out, tears streaming down his face, "DRACO RUNS SLYTHERIN HOUSE!" Then he dropped his face low, all the while begging, "Pleeeeease! Dracodon'tkillme. I...I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...so sorry!"

"That's a good boy, Nott. I might just forgive you. I just need one little itty bitty thing. Give. Me. My. Fucking. Jewel. You. Little. Shite," he hissed directly into Theo's face with a venom so real that the boy he was holding by the hair wet himself in terror while fumbling with his snake-bound arms to reach his pocket. A second later, he placed the amethyst into Draco's palm and went back to begging for his life.

"Good choice, Theo. You're a smart boy. I've only got a few minutes left before I have to be somewhere, but we'll chat just a bit longer. It's been so long since we spent any time together, hasn't it?" There was a slightly weird gleam in Draco's eyes that belied his gentle tone.

Outside in the hallway Crabbe and Goyle were stripping the last of the Locking Charms from the door when they heard the most horrifying sound. It sounded like a grown man shrieking with every fiber of his being, then it sunk into a low and pitiful wail that spoke volumes of pain and despair...ultimately falling to silence.

They looked at each other and smiled. That just had to be Nott! About a minute later Draco stepped out, looking remarkably calm and pleasant despite the ruckus of only minutes ago.

"Thanks guys. You did great! Pass the word, meeting tomorrow morning before breakfast. Mandatory. I'd stay to celebrate, but I have a date with an angel who's due to wake up sometime today.

In days to come that morning would be a legend. Slytherin students for generations would whisper the story of it in the dark to frighten the first-years. They came to call it "The Malfoy Chain-Hex Massacre." By then it was blown out of all proportion to reality, but legends can be fickle that way.

As it was, the hospital ward was so full of Slytherins that morning, that Madam Pomfrey initially suspected an attack by Death Eaters that had entered through the dungeons. Oddly, the story of the students was uniform. Just an in-house argument gone wrong. So many wands had been used that day that no one could identify who cast exactly what hex.

As the wounded filed through the ward to have their Boil-Hexes, Bat-Bogeys, Jelly-Legs and other curses removed, they each fell under the watchful eye of Draco Malfoy, who sat quietly in a chair by a bed, holding the hand of his sleeping boyfriend, Harry Potter. Perhaps this enhanced their need for privacy about the source of their injuries, but no one that mattered would ever know for sure. Nonetheless, peace returned to to Slytherin House.

In a further bizarre twist, Theodore Nott developed a serious speech impediment so unique that it defied analysts and sorcerers alike. For no explicable reason, he felt compelled to interject statements about the astonishing smallness of his penis into every conversation he had with anyone. Every few sentences into a greeting was broken into by sudden, off the cuff comments like, "...and I'm so poorly hung I couldn't satisfy a lonesome guinea pig..." and similar comments. Eventually he drifted into a life of alchoholism and hermitage, dying young, mourned by none.

That future was far off while Draco sat by Harry's side. Harry finally woke late in the afternoon with a yawn that was almost deafening. The first thing he saw was Draco's face...full of relief and smiling ear to ear. Harry smiled wanly and just gazed into those wonderfully warm grey eyes.

Harry whispered a few words. Draco leaned closer to listen. Harry repeated the whispered words. This time Draco giggled and covered his mouth. "You pig! I have to clean these innocent ears of such filth, and then there's the risk you might slow your recovery! Oh no! You will wait until you're well...and if that bothers you then get as mad as you want...just promise me you'll put that anger to work on me later!"

Ron and Hermione came by after classes were out. Ron looked at Draco with an awed respect after hearing rumors of the Slytherin counter-coup. Hermione chatted with Draco and Harry, slowly making the conversation turn to little things that let her get a feel for Draco, and what she found was amazing. 

Ron broke into the middle of the conversation with a quiet gesture that left him blushing and stammering...he handed a box of Honeydukes chocolates to Harry, then another to Draco, with a strangled, "'Cause 'Mione said you both liked 'em." Then he moved behind Hermione's shoulder to hide. 

Draco knew an olive branch when he saw one, and he took it happily. He thanked Ron kindly, since Harry could barely speak, and when he tasted the first one, he smiled broadly.

They thought it was just because of the chocolate, but what it was really about...was the sudden realization by Draco that he hadn't hesitated a second before eating the food handed to him by an old rival, and that's where peace has to start, with just a little bit of trust. It really was a bright new day in Slytherin.


	18. Enter Albus

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 18 'Enter Albus'

 

Albus Dumbledore strolled serenely through the halls of Hogwarts, glad to be back in the castle that had been his home for so many years.

The war was taking its toll on him in many ways, mostly by demanding so much of his time and thought. Voldemort had failed in so many direct attacks that he had switched to spreading his corrupting influence around the wizarding world. This was no longer a war of Hogwarts alumni and of England...this was a global war for the souls and lives of all wizarding kind.

Voldemort was likely quite tired as well, being so unwilling to share power with anyone, and thus doing all the organizing and commanding in person. Albus, on the other hand, had many friends around the world that he trusted implicitly, and he had only to make contact and flesh out loosely detailed plans. Still, the time involved was considerable. He had been gone for a series of meetings in many countries for almost two weeks, and returned to find his home in utter disarray. 

Albus had been in his office for only ten minutes when Severus Snape was upon him for a debriefing. Despite the importance of the initial subject, which had been the result of Severus' spying, he swiftly slid off track into a furious rant about Harry...and of all people, Draco.

Even Albus raised an eyebrow upon hearing that Harry was in the hospital wing, recovering from Healer's Drain, from healing Draco Malfoy, who had nearly been killed when it was revealed that he and Harry were in fact lovers, and the resulting settling of 'ruffled feathers' in Slytherin had apparently involved over half of Slytherin House developing mysterious hex-related ailments and missing a school day. 

Albus suppressed a smile that was creeping up despite Snape's sour disposition. His eyes were twinkling merrily at the irony and humor of the situation. He'd long suspected that the younger Malfoy was basically a good lad at heart.

It was a sorrowful thing, his family being so close to Voldemort these past few years. When Lucius had finally fallen into imprisonment, Albus was greatly relieved to see Draco pull away from the Death Eater camp and freshly ward the Manor against all save Narcissa and himself.

It was a pity about Narcissa, she'd always been a fragile flower of a girl, and she really had adored her husband. Perhaps there had been a time when Lucius might have thought to listen to his wife's warnings, but he hadn't, and he had paid the price. Now poor Narcissa paid the price as well, bereft of a husband she worshipped in an almost unhealthy way. 

So much gone awry in that family. It gave Albus a moment of bittersweet joy to think that, finally, one of them had broken away from it all and found some happiness.

He'd known of Harry's preferences shortly after Harry had worked it out for himself, sooner actually, but the boy had needed to find his own time and way to deal with it. It rather pleased him to think of those two storm-tossed boys finding some shred of comfort together in a world that was much too grim and hard for Albus' liking.

"Headmaster!" Snape's irritable hiss interrupted. "Are you even listening to what I'm telling you! It's just wrong, certainly unhealthy, for them to be together...it's untenable, disastrous, possibly calamitous! I see nothing but the potential for chaos and constant disruption in this...this...parody of..."

"Hmmph. I think it's adorable! A perfect couple if ever there was one!" Albus smiled cheerily, eyes still twinkling. Snape closed his mouth looking positively aghast at what he was hearing.

Albus stood and pocketed a few candies to take with him. "Severus, my old friend. Do try to remember that they are so very young, and that so much has been stolen from each of them because of the times in which we live. Let them have this. Your loss is not theirs. Old sorrows like yours and mine have no place tainting what they have at this moment. Perhaps it will last, perhaps not. Whatever comes, it's theirs to discover, not ours to discourage."

Severus' face tightened at Albus' mention of his personal sorrows, but he knew the clever old goat was right.

"Do not expect me to cheer this lunacy on, but if it must be, then so be it. I can only assume you're off to see them. I don't like this, I just don't. Those are two families that were ever at odds, and I see only failure and pain for them...and Potter needs to be thinking of what must be done, not mooning over my protégé like a love-sick calf. Draco has responsibilities he needs to see to, and trailing after Potter on these little misadventures distracts them both.

I don't want either of them hurt, and with no regard for their duties they both almost died within a day of each other. I cannot see good coming of this, but have it as you wish. I have work to do. Thanks to the nonsense of the last few days, I've run behind on my preparations for the advanced classes. I shall see you again later, Headmaster." Snape bowed briefly and swept out of the room, back to his dungeons and the comfortable familiarity of his potions. At least they were predictable by recipe. The ingredients of life, by comparison, were far trickier things, and prone to worse mischief than melted cauldrons and noxious fumes when gone awry.

Draco sat next to a sleeping Harry Potter, thoroughly uncomfortable, in a chair that seemed to actively invite one to leave. Probably Pomfrey's way of discouraging lingering visitors. He was mulling over what tomorrow's meeting would entail. There might have been a shred of truth in Nott's ranting.

Draco had left Slytherin in a rut, fitting for snakes, but Slytherin was not a house of real snakes, they were people. Draco had just seen them at their worst and best in just two days. He had ideas, big ones. Changes that would be hard to make, but that might just make a more lasting impression than his activities that morning.

In his mind's eye, he saw a Slytherin House transformed. No longer a den of vipers, striking at each other ineffectually, divided, lonely and bitter. He saw a house united, learning principles of cunning and subtlety that would serve them well in the world and strengthen their friendships in school.

This would be his goal. He could build a new reputation. Not one like his father's, rooted in fear, power and influence, but a reputation built on trust, friendship, cooperation and kindness. The Malfoy crest might take a lifetime to repair, but before he was done it would be a name spoken of with respect and affection, a shining example to the wizarding world.

His muse and inspiration was his Harry, so peaceful next to him. He brushed a strand of dark hair away from Harry's closed eyes, then caressed the downy softness of Harry's cheek. His color was returning. 

Draco had gotten Madam Pomfrey to commit to the idea of Harry being moved to 'their room' tomorrow, after classes were out, but only after he'd promised everything but his immortal soul. He had a list of potions he'd be doling out daily for the rest of the week, and a set of spells he'd just learned to slowly feed energy to Harry and speed his recovery. Funny to think that only yesterday he'd almost given up hope. He had good allies. Strong ones that wouldn't quit easily. He hadn't known it until yesterday, but now he knew who he could count on. 

After he'd watched Harry fall asleep, Draco had spent almost an hour talking to Ron and Hermione. Madam Pomfrey had sent them all outside, but it had been productive. Aside from Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise Zabini, he had the sneaking suspicion that Granger and Weasley would be helpful when they could, since anyone with Harry was automatically in their good books.

The look on Ron Weasley's face had been priceless when he told the red-headed prat to extend Draco's formal compliments to his parents for the exemplary compassion and hospitality they had shown Harry. Ron had been reduced to stuttering thanks on his family's behalf.

Hermione Granger was the really interesting one. What a mind she had. For the daughter of Muggles, she was a jewel in the rough. She lacked old-house polish, the trait that marked those born to elder wizarding families, but she had brains and raw talent and a subtle sense of humor that really endeared her to Draco. If he was really going to change Slytherin House in a way that would last, he would need friends like those. Then Albus Dumbledore swept into the room and killed his train of thought.

"Hello, Headmaster." He stood and gave a short nod of respect. This could be good or bad. If one person had the authority to throw a Muggle 'wrench into the works' of Draco's plans, it was Albus Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Draco Malfoy. I understand it's been quite a remarkable two weeks in my absence. I greatly regret having missed some of the events that passed of late." The old man always looked so damnably amused, it was hard to read whether he was upset or thrilled. Draco had always found that annoying as hell. He had an expert poker face and always hated being outbluffed.

"Well, it has been...uh...enlightening, sir. I...I assume it's all over school by now, then? About us, Harry and I...together." Draco's voiced trailed off. It was so damnably hard to talk to the old coot. He hated being made to feel like a child, and Albus Dumbledore made almost everyone feel like a beloved grandchild. This made for a certain natural discomfort between them.

"Please Draco, be at ease. I think you two have done very well by each other. I couldn't possibly approve more. Harry is very dear to me, and his well-being is very much a concern of mine. I think you make a fine young couple, and, from what I've heard, you show a great deal of promise. Especially in the arts of wizardry, judging by the notable passage of arms I'm told took place so recently." Dumbledore favored him with a telling glance, a broad wink and a smile.

Busted! Trust Dumbledore to know the details even when no one talked. "I can explain...really...it was...I needed to...uh..." Draco's glib tongue was failing him. Damn it! "Slytherin needs to change and I'm going to change it for the better!" Draco finally blurted out.

"I didn't say I disapproved. Work with your Head of House to make the changes you think might be appropriate. Very ambitious of you, I might add. It shows good character. Draco...", and here Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and gazed seriously and deeply into Draco's eyes. "...what I wanted to tell you is that, in the course you have chosen, you have begun to exemplify the highest standards of qualities that mark a great Slytherin. Overpowered by brute force and cheap theatrics, you rallied with strong allies, cunning, guile and an astonishingly skillful use of Wizardry. Not even a trace of dark magic in the whole affair. I wanted you to know that I'm terribly proud of you. As proud of you as I am of Harry. If you ever choose to join those of us fighting Voldemort, you would be a welcome addition to our ranks. We should be honored to have you among us." 

Draco flushed scarlet, this wasn't the same as praise from Snape. This left him speechless, praised for Slytherin values by Dumbledore the eternal Gryffindor? He wasn't really used to genuine compliments, except from Harry. "Th-thank you. I'll think about it, sir, I mean the war and all, I have to talk to Harry first, but thank you just the same."

"My dear boy, just because I'm an old Gryffindor doesn't mean I don't recognize a fine example of Slytherin when I see one. Just as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, too, produce some truly exceptional students who perfectly represent the values of their houses, so too does Slytherin. Alas, I am afraid I do have some unpleasant news from my busy round of meetings. Draco, it's about your father."

Draco blanched instantly. Dumbledore seemed sad to even broach the subject, so it couldn't be good. Racing through Draco's mind was the mantra...'please don't let him have escaped...please.' Dumbledore stepped back a bit and started in. 

"Lucius Malfoy, according to those I have spoken to, is likely to receive the Kiss sometime in the next month. Several key captive Death Eaters have clearly and directly cited him as central to Voldemort's command of his followers. With so much current evidence against him and his previous involvement working against him, I'm afraid my suggestion that no further action was necessary fell on deaf ears. The Ministry, for many good reasons, is currently quite intolerant of convicted Death Eaters. Given your mother's delicate state and your own good nature, I tried to plea for an extension or stay of sentence. I wish I could tell you that I thought it had done any good. I just wanted to prepare you for what may be coming soon."

Draco took a deep breath. The Kiss. What a cruel irony that a man like his father, who would have proudly died fighting, a snarl fixed on his face to the last, would end up a gibbering shell of a man, every shred of hope, pride or dignity torn from him before he left this world. It stung more than he cared to admit.

He had often resented his father's coldness and acid-tongued comments. Lucius could be truly vicious when angry. There were some good memories that weren't dead to Draco, though, and these flooded back so suddenly it surprised him. 

When Draco had been very small, Lucius had not thought it inappropriate to play with his only child. Clambering about on the floor with his giggling three year old child, just wrestling and tickling and reciting old children's rhymes. Walking through the gardens with his son and heir on his shoulders, as carefree, almost, as a child himself. At moments like that, Lucius had seemed like the tallest and most perfect person in the world to his son, and to this day a part of Draco ached with emptiness, that the man he had worshipped at the feet of had fallen so low and so far from him.

Draco pulled himself out of his shocked silence to answer the Headmaster. "It's all right, my father...my father made his choice a long time ago. This isn't anything you could fix. I wondered when it was going to come to this. When they make the final decision my family solicitor will contact me. Your consideration is appreciated.

I do have a question about something for which I need your permission. Harry and I have an old Prefect's suite on the sixth floor that...that means a lot to us. We've fixed it up and made it usable for living and study. I know he'd feel better about using it with your permission, so may we have it? I know this is unusual as a request, but it would mean a lot to us to be able to be together more." Draco almost sighed relief when Dumbledore all but gave his blessings on the spot.

"When Harry wakes, please tell him to drop by my office sometime soon. I will be available for the rest of the week should either of you need anything. Oh...and Draco...should Slytherin students require any...ah...shall we say...disciplining, please ensure they can still make it to class. Hogwarts is, after all, an institution of learning." A hint of that annoying twinkle was back, and as soon as he able to give the Headmaster his word that future events would be quieter, Albus Dumbledore wished him and Harry well and was gone.

So much for easy weekends with Harry. He'd have to see his father...soon. There may not be much time left, and there were things he thought he should say. It would be horrible, even at best. He could handle it; he had Harry to help him when it was too much. With Harry, he felt like any burden could be borne, and these things had to be done, whether he liked it or not. 

Madam Pomfrey was walking her final rounds and would shoo him out shortly, so Draco rose a little stiffly, still sore in a few spots from the day's efforts, and kissed Harry's slumbering and unfurrowed brow. Then it was back to Slytherin, back to studies, and back to plans that were only just unfolding in his mind.


	19. A New Day For Slytherin

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 19 'A New Day For Slytherin'

 

Slytherin's common room was packed full of nervous students. Their worry wasn't completely unjustified, since the meeting was being held to reintroduce them to the leader they had recently abused, and been so swiftly abused by in return.

Most of the seventh-years had taken positions near the exits, since they had played the heaviest part in the drama of the last two days, and accordingly took the greatest share of punishment. 

Draco sat in his favorite chair. He was near a cozy fireplace that helped drive the chill from the dungeon suites. He'd been awake, poring over ideas, since almost six in the morning. Draco stood, and conversations all over the room stopped. He scanned through the crowd, nodding to Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. The rest he simply looked over to assure himself that they were present and moved on. When the crowd finally seemed desperate for him to start, he spoke.

"Theodore Nott was right." That brought a lot of confused muttering from the entire assembly. "Not about everything, since he's a right prat, a sneak-thieving shite, and as I'm sure he's told some of you by now, he also has a dick so small that he needs a magnifying glass and two Engorgement Charms just to masturbate." This pulled a few laughs from everyone and dispelled much of the tension that had been eating them apart. Good, time for the next phase.

"He did have one good point, and I understand it now. Slytherin House needs change, badly. Some of this is my fault. I think I paid the price for my mistakes, and so did everyone else. I didn't run this house for the glory of Slytherin as a whole, I ran it for me, and no one here can say they wouldn't have done the same. Slytherin Way, right? Do for yourself, and screw the rest? Power for power's sake? Cunning, guile and skullduggery? I think we got it wrong! Salazar Slytherin would not be proud of this house no matter how many games of Quidditch we won or how many hexes and curses we threw at Gryffindor or anyone else.

My point is that we have spent all our efforts fending off each other for years, instead being a strong and united house. How many of you have Warding Charms and Locking Charms in use every night to protect youselves?" More than two-thirds of them were nodding their heads. 

We knock ourselves out trying to destroy each other, pulling all of us down together. THIS HAS TO STOP! I'm stopping it as of today. Today is a new day for Slytherin! Every person in this room was chosen by the Sorting Hat because they hold the strengths that best represent this house's founder. Caution, wisdom, cunning and precision make us strong. A Muggle surgeon doesn't work with a broadsword, and a Slytherin doesn't work like a Gryffindor, but where did it ever say we had to hate each other, fear each other and plot against each other? We need to be helping each other be the strongest house in this school.

First, I rescind all my previous dictates. Especially the one about socializing with other houses. I was wrong, it has to go. Our first new order for this house is NO SPELLS cast against any classmate unless you have been attacked first! Breaking that rule buys you detention with Snape. 

The second rule is basic kindness, if I hear a classmate has a problem, I'm not going to publicly shred them for it, I'm going to use my cunning to try to help them! Or at least let them get it off their chest so they feel better. The same goes for all of you, need help...ask for it...if you are asked for help...give it.

Third order, all Quidditch players and fans will meet weekly for strategy sessions, not just our house team. Listen to each other! There might be some ideas you haven't heard yet, and one of those might get us some wins. 

Fourth order, regarding socializing, there will be events organized by this house to better our relationship with all the other houses. Over the next few weeks these inter-house gatherings will start giving you a chance to meet your classmates in a non-competitive atmosphere. I suggest you use the chance to relax and have fun. See Pansy tomorrow if you want to help prepare those events, as she will be coordinating them.

Fifth, a mentoring program is starting next week. All first-years will be assigned a fourth-year who will act as their guide in this house and the rest of Hogwarts. Mentoring includes: help with homework, learning the do's and don'ts of Hogwarts, history of our house, and acting as a counselor. Blaise Zabini will be heading up this program and will be talking to all fourth-year students before next week.

There may be other activities as well; I'd like a tutoring program for students who have problem classes. By next week I want to know who our best students are in each field of study and I want some ideas about times for helping others catch up. This is house pride we're talking about. I don't ever want to hear another student say 'Thank Merlin I'm not in Slytherin'. I want them all to wish they were here." 

Draco's throat was parched, but the looks from the assembled students ran the whole gamut from amazement to disgust. Mostly just surprise. The younger years looked fairly happy, since they were generally referred to as 'Mobile Hex Targets' before today. Time to wrap it up.

"I know this is a lot to take in at once, and that a few of you don't like some of this. You can talk to me about it and I won't hex you...YOU HAVE MY SWORN WORD! One catch though, if I listen to your complaint, and I make a decision, but you still don't like it...tough. I may hear you and if you make a good case I'll change something, but if not, I'd better see you toeing the line like everyone else or I will have you scrubbing cauldrons for Snape. Once the rules are in place, follow them until they are changed.

Finally, the last thing I wanted to say to all of you. A lot of you have been on the bad side of my temper before, often without any good reason. I'm sorry, I was wrong...and I will try very hard not to let that happen again." This statement got the most piercing glances...until Draco looked out with eyes that glinted steel menace for just one second..."But don't ever think that, just because I was willing to apologize for my mistakes, I'll be forgiving of anyone trying to take it any further. I might be doing things differently, but I haven't changed as much as you might think. So here's your last order...and this one's the most important...DO NOT FUCK WITH THE BOSS...YOU WILL LIVE TO REGRET IT! Meeting adjourned!" 

Draco sat down and waited for the crowd to clear. A number of very grateful looking students passed by him with thanks, and a larger number still seemed headed for breakfast wearing smiles.

Blaise sauntered up and offered his hand. Draco took it and they shook hands while Blaise shook his head in confusion. "I don't know how you did it, but I'm with you, Draco. This might be impossible, it might blow up completely before the week's out, maybe it won't last after we leave this year, but it's got to be worth trying. Apparently, you've got the momentum, and I just have to see if this works. I'll see you tomorrow morning to work out some details for the mentoring program. Meanwhile, give Harry my best... or if you can't do that... give him your best." The last was said with a coy smile and a wink that was pure Slytherin through and through, and with that, Blaise excused himself and was on his way to breakfast. 

Pansy made arrangements to see him tomorrow morning as well, hoping to pin down some loose ideas for inter-house activities that weren't competitive in nature. Crabbe and Goyle seemed philisophical about the whole deal, at least as much as they could be, but they looked forward to acting as 'an enforcement team' for the new rules...except for the 'no cursing classmates' part. They clapped Draco on the shoulders and left for breakfast, too, leaving Draco alone by the fireplace, in the chair that had been his throne, in an empty room in which he had spent seven years growing up.

Draco sat by the fire, looking into the jewel that hadn't left his hand since he woke up that morning. In its heart winked the image of his lover. Harry would be out of the hospital ward by the end of the day, and they could be together again. He'd be getting up early and getting done late for days to come. His new ideas would demand a lot from him. Harry would be so proud, Draco knew he wouldn't mind waiting longer to see him.

Tonight, after he got Harry comfortable in the suite, they would have to talk about Lucius. It might spoil their weekend, but he needed to face this, and he needed Harry with him. Lucius wouldn't like it, but Draco really wasn't concerned with what Lucius liked right now. Sooner or later, he would have to watch his father wither and die, a raving wreck of his former self, and even with Harry's help it would be awful. Without help, he wasn't even sure he could keep himself sane and functioning through the whole affair.

Draco sipped the last of his tea and headed for Snape's office. He had a list of new things to discuss with his Head of House, and they couldn't wait until after class.

Snape was at his desk, a mound of papers on either side of him, scribbling away furiously. He looked up with irritation as Draco entered the room, then softened just a bit and inquired as to what merited interrupting his work. Draco quickly went over the finer points of his morning meeting, and outlined the changes he planned to make and why he was making them. Snape sat silent through it all, staring intently at him, making even Draco feel slightly nervous.

At the end of it, Snape said nothing, just handed him a sheaf of first-year Potions scrolls to grade, and returned to his work. Draco sat and began grading papers, disappointed that his mentor had nothing to say. He was almost finished with them when Snape spoke without so much as lifting his head from his work. 

"Is it Potter that brings this out of you, this urge to make things better? To take on so much...despite the possibility of grand failure?"

The question made his stomach queasy; it was very hard to tell where this conversation was going to go. Draco took a deep breath and forged ahead. "Yes, but he only makes me willing to try. Slytherin House has needed this for a long time. I just needed to wake up and see it...and care enough to do something about it. He makes me care." Silence passed between them while they worked on a few more papers.

"Mister Malfoy..." Snape paused a moment, seeming uncertain of himself, which was rare enough already...then he sighed and started over. "Draco, this is your last year under my tutelage. You have been one of the finest students I have ever had, excepting Miss Granger, who is very skillful, but uncommonly annoying. I expect you will lead a most remarkable life, as no one with your talents is likely to fail. I approve of all that you intend for Slytherin House, all of it. It's an ambitious undertaking that may exhaust you, but it is all worthwhile, and, though it pains me to say it, if Potter brings this verve and determination out of you, then I am forced to approve of that as well.

I must caution you on one matter, though. It is inappropriate for a professor to look upon a student as he would one of his own children, but I fear for you like a father would for his son. Harry Potter comes with many burdens, some of them wrapped around his destiny, others borne of his very nature. If, and I only suggest this, if he should be killed or taken from you by the war that is surely coming...you will be hurt in a way that cannot be described by mere words. Please know this...what I have felt for almost twenty years has been scarcely endurable. I have no need to share the details with you, Draco, but the root of it has been love. 

If you are very fortunate, perhaps you will have the life of joy that escaped me. If not, I hope you are strong enough to live through the pain that will come. If I could guard you against it I would, but I cannot. Do what you feel you must, but at least I have made certain that you aren't leaping in blindly. That...that is the province of Gryffindors. I shall try to be here should you need me."

Draco was thunderstruck. He stood up from his seat and walked over to where Snape sat, still scribbling intently at his papers. Finally, exasperated by being gawked at, Snape looked up. Draco suddenly hugged him, leaving Snape absolutely aghast and furious.

"Stop this unseemly display of Hufflepuff sentimentality at once! Get off of me! Try...just try to remember that you are a student, protégé or no! We'll speak no more of this!"

Draco promptly released him and went back to his seat. It had been worth it just to see Snape lose it! He couldn't stop smiling all the while that he graded papers. When he was done, he rose and turned to place them on Snape's desk, smirking to match Snape's scowl.

On his way out he paused at the door and simply said, "Thank you, sir, for everything. I won't forget it."

Snape never looked up, "Just see that you don't, Mister Malfoy." And with that, Draco was on his way to class.


	20. Brief Respite

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 20 'Brief Respite'

 

Draco had finished his school day and finally had time to attend to the most important thing of all...Harry. The smile on Harry's face when Draco came to take him out of the hospital ward was worth more than gold or diamonds. Draco collected the necessary potions, and the lists of ingredients and instructions from Madam Pomfrey, with a string of promises that were both faithful and convincing.

With one arm around Harry's waist, and the other clutching the satchel of medicines, Draco started them on their way back to their room. Harry got winded and dizzy on the stairs, but Draco acted as a human crutch and finally got his boyfriend home.

As soon as Harry was safely into bed, Draco unpacked the provisions Madam Pomfrey had sent with them and laid them out for later use. Then he kicked off his shoes and curled up next to Harry.

"That's more like it, those hospital bunks are just too small for my taste. Not friendly to the needs of lovers." Draco gave a little sniff of disdain.

Harry finally got enough wind back to talk. It was difficult for him, getting tired so easily. Also embarrassing, but Draco seemed so happy taking caring of him that he didn't really have the heart to complain.

He smiled broadly, "You said lovers, have I been upgraded from boyfriend? That's pretty generous...since I almost got you killed. I like it, though. It has the word love in it, and I love you, so I guess that works pretty well."

Draco was lapping it up like a starving kitten on a saucer of cream. "That wasn't your fault Harry, and you know it. It had to happen sometime, now it's over. By now everybody knows, so it just doesn't matter anymore. Fuck all, I'm glad they know. Dumbledore gave us this room, Slytherin is back in my firm control, and you're not gonna believe what Snape said to me about all this! This is heaven and I am sooo not complaining.

You can call it an upgrade, I call it acknowlegment. I love you, Harry. You almost killed yourself so I wouldn't wake up a mess, and by the way, if you EVER do ANYTHING that STUPID again I swear I will save ALL my best hexes just for you! I didn't plan on getting my ass kicked up one end and down the other. You almost did yourself in that night. Do you know what it would do to me if you died? Do you have any idea? It would finish me off, Harry. I need you to know that...please...you're not just fighting for you anymore, my life is hanging on yours...SO YOU CAN'T FUCKING DIE ON ME! Are we clear!"

Harry sobered quickly, hearing the raw and gutteral tone tearing out of Draco's throat. It spoke of a deep and serious need that demanded more from him than he had practice at giving.

He swallowed carefully and answered. "I'm sorry, I really am, Draco. I never thought about it that way. You didn't see yourself lying there. I couldn't take it, seeing you hurt. I promise you I'll be careful, but I won't promise what I can't give. If you're in danger I have to do whatever I can to help, and that might not be safe, but I think I can promise that I won't do anything without thinking. Is that enough?"

Draco slid closer to him and pulled him into a hug, burrowing that wonderfully soft cheek into his neck just the way Harry loved. "It will have to be enough I guess. I'm just happy to have you to myself again. Just for the nights, but it has to be enough."

Draco talked awhile, filling in details of the last couple days that Harry hadn't heard yet. The conversation with Snape left Harry in a coughing fit that lasted several minutes. Harry was forbidden from repeating any part of it, but Snape's reluctant blessing meant a lot.

Harry had been floored by the scope of Draco's planned transformation for Slytherin House, but he steered clear of critiquing any part of it. He didn't feel it was his place to offer ideas on Slytherin House's leadership, but he loved it all. Then it was his turn to floor Draco.

"You know the Sorting Hat? It almost put me into Slytherin, if it had been the kind of place you're talking about, back then, I might have said yes. Instead, I begged it to make me anything else. It read that I liked Hermione and Ron, and it set me with them in Gryffindor. I like to think that maybe, thanks to you, no one will ever have to beg for something like that again." 

Draco reeled. "YOU!? A Slytherin? AHA! Suddenly, I feel like I'm not marrying beneath my station!" An evil smirk and glittering eyes told Harry that Draco was kidding. "Here I thought my attraction to you was just physical...and now it turns out it's founded in good taste after all!"

Harry laughed as heartily as he was able. "It's not so hard to believe! I can be cunning! I just like people and I have a habit of being true to my friends. I could see you being in Ravenclaw, easy. You're bloody brilliant! Besides, I think this whole inter-house rivalry stuff is nonsense anyway. I'd love you if you were any house, no kidding!"

Draco snuggled a little closer and wrapped his arm behind Harry's neck. "I'd love you in any house, too. Also any room, any bed, any closet or floor, and possibly some of the larger desks as well." He moved in for a kiss and Harry obliged him eagerly.

It was electric, that moment when their lips first touched again. They hadn't gotten in a decent snog in days, thanks to the efforts of Madam Pomfrey. Now they were in their own space, alone at last and revelling in the closeness that had been denied them for too long. They melted into each other until Harry was left gasping for breath, torn between his gnawing hunger and his body's near exhaustion.

Draco broke away from those perfect lips and began to devote his time and attention to Harry's neck and throat. He loved the soft gasps that Harry made when he bit or sucked hard on just the right spot.

A stray hand slipped it's way across the covers on a mission of exploration. It found Harry's slowly responding erection, and softly manipulated it through the sheets. Harry gripped the sheets with one hand and gently ran his fingers through the soft blonde hair of his lover with the other. That wicked little mouth was teasing its way down his chest, pausing only to deliver brief attention to the pert nipples that apparently required Draco's tongue's most skillful labors.

Harry groaned despite his best efforts to be still. He heard a brief chuckle and opened his eyes just in time to see Draco shift his position and move beneath the sheets, smiling like an alley cat.

That soft little tongue was swirling its way down his stomach, and then he felt Draco fumbling with the drawstring to his pajamas. A warm and gentle hand slid around his erection, freeing it from its prison of cloth, then just as gently slid up and down its length, momentarily distracting Harry from the busy tongue that softly searched every inch of his groin.

When those lips left him, Harry tensed in anticipation, waiting only a second before the warmth of Draco's mouth surrounded the head of his attention-starved penis. The lips that had, only minutes ago, slaked the hunger of his own, now offered up a rapture that defied description. Harry tensed and twitched, small cries of pleasure escaping between gasps. This was enough pleasure to make even a jaded and blasé lover, with years of experience, weep with the need for relief.

For Harry it was almost too much, and then a slender finger gently began to massage his own entrance, a place even he had never touched intimately before! That hypnotic mouth never stopped its labors, while a slick digit slowly soothed away tension and slipped inexorably further in.

The invasion was so slow, so subtle and gentle, that Harry never felt what could be called pain, but squirmed desperately between the alien feel of it and the hunger for more. Then that respectful and skillful finger curled! Its motions changed from those of entrance, to those of soft manipulation, questing after something Harry hadn't given thought to in his over excited state. Harry was utterly unprepared for what that finger ultimately found. His hips bucked and a thready moan escaped, his muscles tensed and made the intruding finger a sudden source of mind-boggling sensations.

Draco didn't offer even a second of surcease beneath the sheets; he was locked in position and wouldn't be distracted. His mouth worked furiously in tandem with his hand and finger. His boyfriend was already reduced to a shuddering and weeping ruin, but he was not done yet. With a final shift of his finger, he made Harry scream and lose control without warning, his cock twitching uncontrollably as it jetted into Draco's waiting, and this time well prepared, mouth. 

The manipulations didn't stop until Harry had been thoroughly emptied of come and was almost sobbing with relief in the aftermath, the head of his softening member still clenched between tightly pursed lips. Draco lifted his head away with a deep gasp and a sigh of blissful satisfaction. He slid back up through the sheets and curled himself at Harry's side, licking his lips with an almost unholy glee.

Harry lay still, gasping for air like a fish stranded out of water. He was unable to form any coherent thoughts for several minutes, just numb and tingling from head to toe from the orgasm that had torn through him. When he finally had the power to move he righted his glasses, which had fallen askew, and calmly turned to his Cheshire-cat grinning lover.

"Sweet fucking Merlin, Draco! That...that was...it was un-fucking-believable!" Draco was still silent, looking exceedingly proud of himself. "I mean really, love, that was the most intense thing I've ever felt to date! That thing you did...with your finger, is that...is it at all like what you feel when I'm in you...while you come?" Draco waggled his eyebrows and nodded yes, then placed his chin on Harry's chest, like a mountaineer planting the flag of his nation upon a once unconquered mountaintop. 

Harry sighed deeply in contentment, the echoes of pleasure still thrumming through his body. "Draco?" Those perfect grey eyes glanced up, inviting further comment. "Would you ever think of...well...I mean...oh bugger! Have you ever wanted to be a top? Maybe just for me...sometimes. I've never done anything without you, and I guess I still don't even know what I might like or not like. I just wanna try everything...I mean eventually. Okay?"

Draco had a moment of near total panic! What kind of horrifying Pandora's Box had he just opened? What if Harry was happier as a bottom? He didn't have any experience topping, what if Harry wanted that all the time? Why did he have to get so adventurous just because he went a few days without Harry?

He calmed himself slowly, trying not to look Harry in the eyes just yet. When he had a grip, he finally trusted himself to speak. "I've never really been the top 'type', Harry. I don't even know if I can. I'll try sometime if you like, but you'd be okay topping even if I couldn't, right?" 

"Sure! I love you, and I love anything I do with you! Draco, you're like every fantasy I've ever had about killer sex...come to life in front of me! As soon as I've had a couple more days to get my energy back, I'm going to chase you around the castle every chance I get! But seriously, I want to explore everything with you, and only you, just to know what's what. No matter what happens, I can't imagine anything I wouldn't want to do with you."

Draco inwardly sighed with relief. He was just being silly, Harry would always be good to go. Draco knew he would always be able to inspire the lust to top in Harry, in fact, he was fairly sure that, on one of his good days, he could inspire the urge to top in relatively straight men and any number of inanimate objects as well.

Maybe this top business wasn't such an awful chore after all. When he thought about it carefully, he was attracted to everything Harry seemed to do or say already, so why not at least try? The worst that could come of it was, well, not coming of it! He certainly had the right inspiration...he loved making Harry come any way he could, so maybe when the time came (so to speak), he'd find it wasn't such an unpleasant task after all.

He kissed Harry soundly on the mouth, then rose to fetch his medicines and cast a few Cleaning Charms. Tomorrow would be a busy day. Harry needed a treatment before breakfast, then he had meetings with Blaise and Pansy, and Snape would have more papers to grade before Draco's first class started. 

Good thing he was an early riser anyway. Harry took his potions without complaint, and sat quietly while Draco cast the Energizing Spells for the night. Draco kissed his sleepy boyfriend and settled in to finish his homework before he joined Harry in bed. When he whisked the last light off with his wand, he curled himself into the corner of Harry's chest and drifted quickly to sleep, as happy as he could remember being since he was just a child.

In slumber they were smiling innocence, and none of the worries of the world could touch them. Not even executions, wars or petty rivalries could strip the sense of safety and peace from them here.


	21. Rise And Fall

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 21 "Rise And Fall'

 

Draco woke well before dawn proper. Harry was slumbering blissfully next to him, and hadn't budged the entire night. Draco peeled himself away and crawled toward the shower with his wand in hand.

A few Silence Charms and Harry could keep sleeping. Draco yawned ferociously, then looked at himself in the mirror. Not really his best; he probably just hadn't had enough sleep lately. So much for beauty sleep.

He slipped into the shower and lathered up with some of his own favorite body scrub. The shower's steam was full of the intoxicating scent of flowers and various foreign fruits...and that always made Draco feel happy about waking up. Then he applied a masque to his face that would peel away after a few minutes attending to the cleanliness of his other parts. 

He was thorough in his work, and left every part of himself tingling and faintly sore after some ten minutes had passed. It was good to have his things here; he'd cleared out his old room while Harry'd been in the hospital, and tonight Ron and Hermione were bringing the last of Harry's things by to be unpacked. Mostly, he was just thrilled to have his products at hand. Life without gel was...well, not as bad as life without Harry...but it was fairly brutal.

A swift Drying Charm and a little time with his colognes and gel and he was more than presentable...and he still had more than an hour before he had to meet Pansy and Blaise.

He sauntered back into the suite and looked at his peacefully slumbering lover. The sheets were just low enough that he had the full view of Harry's chest, and its slow rise and fall hypnotized him. The fine, handsome angles of his face were still easy to see, and without his glasses he looked like some lean Greek god in repose.

Of course the Greeks would have had too much modesty to sculpt a body like that and still show off the huge bulge just hidden by the covers on their bed. Harry's morning erection could stop traffic...and it stopped Draco cold.

He really shouldn't...Harry was still resting and recovering. Still, Draco hadn't had any heavy action in days, and all that 'top talk' last night had put him in the mood to claim his territory as the unquestioned king of bottoms all the more firmly. He had to wake him up soon for his treatments anyway, right?

Draco chewed his bottom lip in frustration, then dropped his towel and grabbed the lube from the counter. Quickly prepping himself, he saved a palmful of the slick stuff and slipped the sheets back. There lay Draco's pride and joy, sprouting forth from a modest patch of soft dark fur.

With a steady hand, he oiled the swollen tool in front of him, vaguely ashamed of his insistent lust making him need so much from a lover who was exhausted from healing him.

Harry had said he loved waking up with Draco...morning sex was practically already on the menu! With that last comforting rationalization, Draco gently climbed over Harry's legs and placed himself just in front of Harry's erection. 

He was slow and careful not to jar Harry or accidently maim himself, but he had to bite his own cheek to keep from moaning as he slid onto the head of that phenomenal thing beneath him. As subtle as an anenome, Draco slowly engulfed and devoured his prey.

Gods...how he had needed this. It had been days since they consummated their love, and on two of them they'd each been incapacitated. Draco shuddered with glee as he thought of what life would be like when all was well and they were free and healthy and able to make love whenever they felt like.

Draco felt a blush creep up his cheeks when he finally reached the base and was at rest on Harry's hips. It had almost been easy. He quietly soaked up the exquisite feeling of fullness he'd achieved; Harry filled him utterly and completely. 

Draco gathered himself, watching for any sign of wakefulness from Harry. He started the tiny, sliding motions that would bring him satisfaction. Oh...he'd get Harry off, too...but first, this time, it was about pleasing himself.

The soft gyrations barely registered for Harry, but for Draco it was pure ecstacy, feeling the heat and thickness moving inside of him, pressing urgently and deeply in him as he manipulated himself above his slumbering lover.

It didn't take long before he was in the right state, almost entranced, fully erect and aching for swifter release. With a sure and certain hand he grabbed his own cock, quietly stifling a whimper as he brought himself the last of the way to orgasm, tilting himself back to ensure every drop was caught on his own body.

Flushed and sated, he rested a second on Harry's hips, not exactly proud of himself, but feeling a bit more relaxed for his efforts.

That was when two strong hands flew up and grabbed his waist, then flung him back onto the mattress, as Harry sat up in a single swift motion, Draco still impaled on Harry's stiff dick.

Draco had barely smothered a scream of fright and his heart was racing. "Merlin! You big faker! You were awake the whole time!" He gasped for breath.

"You may have silenced the shower, love, but the scent of your scrubs and shampoos walked right through my dreams. I told you I could have been a Slytherin! Besides...ravishing a man on his sickbed...shame on you, you randy little bitch! There's a price to pay for that kind of disregard for my health, and we've still got time for you to pay it." Harry was bleary-eyed, but grinning hugely, when he shoved into Draco...HARD!

"Aaaah...fuck...yes! I'll p-pay...m-make me pay." That sudden thrust left Draco twitching and afire from head to toe.

Harry positioned himself and went to work, noticeably harder than he had a few days before. It didn't take long before he tipped his head back and, with beads of sweat dripping off of him, he went over the top, unleashing a small flood into Draco's body. He kept to a few last, jolting thrusts before sliding from Draco and collapsing onto the bed, panting for breath.

Draco looked wild-eyed and shocky, like he'd just been mauled by savage beasts and couldn't believe he'd just lived through it. A quick, hard fuck was nothing new, but quick and hard with Harry meant something utterly new.

Draco's whole body crackled with tiny paroxysms of pleasure. His nerves were screaming mixed messages of pain and pleasure and adrenalized excitement. He flopped forward next to Harry and managed to blurt a quick and sincere, if slightly slurred, thank you.

When he finally had the wherewithal to form more coherent sentences, he quipped, "If you call that punishment, I need to become a career criminal! Good Gods, Harry...I didn't think you had it in you."

"Actually love, I had it in you, but I'll forgive the lapse of memory...I'm pretty tired, too." Harry chuckled at his own joke while Draco slapped him on the leg in faux irritation. "Seriously, Draco, I feel like my heart's gonna burst. That took everything I had. The rest of my day is now well and rightly booked up with recuperating."

"Sorry...I really am, Harry. I...I just missed you so much...I couldn't stand it, and now you're right here and I'm still not supposed to touch you. More than I could take, it was. You'll feel better after I get you your potion and cast the Energizing Spells. Just a sec, lover."

Draco fetched the potion from the desk and tapped his foot in mock impatience while Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust, then downed the awful draught in one shot.

"Bleeeh! Bloody awful stuff. Reminds me of Ron's socks after Quidditch practice! Wicked gross." Harry flopped back onto the pillows, still working his tongue about, trying to drive away the lingering aftertaste of the potion.

Draco rattled off the set of spells Madam Pomfrey had taught him, then started to dress. Harry felt the slow creep of magical energy through him and sighed in relief.

"You were right! That does feel better. I think they're starting to make a difference."

Draco smiled. "Don't get too crazy with it, the initial rush wears off in an hour or so. Then it's back to bed rest. I have to hurry, I'm supposed to meet Pansy and Blaise in another twenty minutes or so. The rebuilding of Slytherin is underway. YOU...be good and rest, Ron and Hermione are popping in for a late supper tonight after classes let out, and I don't want them to know that I shamelessly wore you out for my own pleasure or I'll never hear the end of it from Granger."

He leaned in for a kiss, narrowly dodging Harry's attempt to muss his near perfect hair. He'd already earned himself a slight limp from this morning's rough shag, no need to compound that with below par hair. 

Those gentle green eyes looked at him soulfully when he finally parted from the kiss. He could see in that gaze how much Harry loved him; there was warmth, and affection, and a boundless hunger that Draco knew was sated only by him.

That knowledge, every time he was reminded of it, left him giddy and gleeful. He didn't even resent it anymore, he reveled in it. He planted one last kiss on Harry's forehead. "I'll see you when the day is done, I love you."

"I love you, too. Give 'em hell, love. Heaven's here when you get back." Harry sighed contentedly and slid back under the covers, enjoying the scent of Draco that still infused the pillows and sheets.

It made the room truly theirs; the fact that even when one was gone, that faint hint of their essence was still there for the other. It was intoxicating to Harry, that such a simple thing could give him so much pleasure. Even after Draco had been gone, his half waking mind still drifted over thoughts of the soft luxury of Draco's body next to him.

Draco sauntered down the stairs to the dungeons, still feeling a bit tender inside and out. It was a good feeling, and he felt just a bit smug as he reached the Slytherin common room. 

Few and far between were those who could claim a boyfriend even half as perfect as his! Noble to fault, handsome, athletic, magically powerful and hung like horse...and with the stamina to back it up!

The only fly in the ointment of Draco's day was the nagging need to talk to Harry about visiting Azkaban with him to see Lucius. He hadn't wanted to spoil Harry's 'homecoming' with such a touchy subject, but it would have to be mentioned soon.

Blaise and Pansy were comfortably ensconced in one of Slytherin's extra comfy couches. They waved hello and started sorting through their notes as soon as Draco drew near. Draco piled in next to them, happy to get off his feet and start the day's work by lounging for a little longer.

Pansy gave him a look that spoke of careful assessment of his condition, then grinned toothily and stuck out her tongue. "Sluuuut!" She rolled the word off her tongue lovingly, fixing Draco with a look of exasperated jealousy.

"Ah-ah Pans, thats EX-Slut. I'm a 'one boy' boy from now on. You, on the other hand, my dear, will never be able to call yourself an EX-bitch!" Draco taunted, smiling from ear to ear, then his eyes widened in panic!

He stood quickly and threw an apology to his friends. "Um, back in a sec, nature calling, no problem...none at all. Just one minute!" He fled the room and headed for the loo in hurry. He'd been so giddy he hadn't purged himself of Harry's enormous deposit and had just toddled off without thinking of it! How utterly embarrassing.

Meanwhile, Pansy elbowed Blaise, giggling furiously. "Ten to one says that's Harry he's relieving himself of right this second!"

"I'm not taking any such bet, this is Draco we're speaking of. Captive bed-ridden boyfriend, or well-ridden boyfriend, I should say, I'm only surprised Pomfrey didn't need a pry bar and a team of mules to drag them apart in the hospital. Still, I'm happy for them. I always thought Draco needed something like this, he's the better for it, so bully for them."

Blaise had always kept his thoughts to himself, it was a bit strange to let them go so easily now, but he really was trying to get into the spirit of Draco's new ideas for the House.

Pansy sighed, "I'm a jealous bitch and I know it. I feel like a much loved evil sister just got married. No more catting around together, no more weekend madness. My Dray is all domesticated now."

"I wouldn't call him domesticated to his face, Pans, he'd been shagging Potter a week when he brought this house down to its knees in ten minutes...alone! He's still our boy, just happier. I think I can live with that."

Pansy looked at him funny, like she was seeing him for the first time. Her scrutiny was a little unnerving, and Blaise had an inkling why.

"Blaise-fucking-Zabini, don't tell me you're a closet romantic? Always the lone stud on the prowl...mister desirable hunk of bachelor...all a big smoke screen! You sly devil! That's sweet, really. I'm not sure I even want to tattle about it, some things even I like keeping to myself."

Just then Draco returned, faintly blushing, while Blaise smiled and shrugged nonchalantly to Pansy. Then they got down to business.

Blaise already had lists of fourth-years and first-years, and a few others that could act as spares if the numbers didn't match up right, a few fifth-years with spare time and third-years with above average maturity.

Pansy had lists of themes for parties, and plans for not too competitive events that could be held, as well as a few ideas for charitable activities of which even most Slytherins would approve. She'd located rooms that would be large enough to hold full gatherings and had already tallied up needed supplies.

They fleshed out duties for mentors and tentatively set the dates for a first party near the end of the month. The mentoring would start in just another week or so, after Blaise had had time to walk through all the fourth-years and explain their duties, but the tutoring program was Draco's baby, and that would take some research and recruitment. Maybe some small rewards would be in order for participants.

They got a fair amount done, then Draco excused himself and headed for Snape's. He snagged a sweet roll off a tray and made his way out of the common room and down the hall, noisily smacking his lips over his treat, then licking his fingertips clean in a way that would have made a cat proud.

Draco watched the grades on the homework in front of him closely, mentally noting Slytherin students who did well and those who did poorly, filing away the best performers for possible tutor recruitment.

Snape was all business today, and fairly pleasant (for Snape) once his paperwork had been caught up. Draco still had time to snag a decent breakfast when he was done.

The day blurred into classes, swiftly completed sheets of homework, and some curious faces and whispered comments behind his back. None too hostile, just a lot of chatter from students that still couldn't believe the sudden revelation that the infamous Draco Malfoy had bound himself over to Harry Potter.

Draco glowed while he heard it, the naked tones of jealously from girls and boys alike were like sweet wine to him. They wanted it, he had it, they'd never be able to take it away and he knew it. That really took the sting out of being gossiped about. 

The grind of classes slowed and halted, and Draco made a final stop to check in with Crabbe and Goyle, letting them in on some of the new details, and listening to what they knew of Slytherin's current mood. 

At least for the moment, half seemed to accept anything Draco did as okay, perhaps a quarter were disgruntled and sensed disaster at hand, and the rest were just waiting to see if it worked or fell apart, willing to go either way.

Nothing he hadn't seen before, and nothing he couldn't work through. His mind at ease, Draco walked and climbed his way back to his room; it was almost time for Harry's potion and spells. With a little luck he'd be chipper through dinner with Weasley and Granger, then they could talk about Draco's father.

Not a good way to end a night, but it was already overdue. If Harry was well enough by Saturday, Draco really needed the moral support to make it through seeing Lucius.

It had gnawed at his mind like a canker, and ever since Dumbledore had told him about what was to come, it had dogged his heels. The sooner it was faced the sooner he could just deal with it instead of worrying.

Who knew? Maybe Lucius would be a little more lucid in the face of what was coming. In the meantime there was one thing he could take solace in, and that was Harry.

He stepped cheerily through the door of their room, smiling...and blanched when he found Harry face down on the floor next to the bed, limp as a rag doll.


	22. Cruel Portent

"All I Ever Wanted" chap 22 'Cruel Portent'

Draco hit the floor in a heartbeat, holding Harry's face and checking for a pulse. It was rapid and thready, the eyes beneath his lids were darting back and forth. It was when his palm touched Harry's scar that a burning pain shot through Draco's hand and he pulled away, only to find a tiny raised welt of seared flesh, forming a near perfect Z across his palm.

Harry was still half dressed, and feverishly hot everywhere that Draco touched him. Draco's heart was pounding like a bass drum and panic was stealing up on him. A million thoughts clambered for attention as he pulled Harry's body up onto the bed and laid him out with a pillow beneath his neck. Then Harry began to shake, just the arms at first, then the convulsions started in full swing and Draco had his arms full of thrashing limbs.

The thought of Harry biting through his own tongue struck him and he balled his fist and shoved his hand between Harry's teeth in an instant, frightened beyond the ability to notice the pain of teeth sinking into his flesh. One of the thrashing arms elbowed him in the side of the head and his world was a starry night for a second, then he was back in control, flung bodily across Harry, pinning his lover to the bed while he convulsed.

At that very moment, Ron and Hermione walked through the door. Draco was wrestling a half naked Harry with all his might, and didn't see them until he heard Ron's yelp behind him.

"WHOA! Gods, you two, take a cold shower...we can come back later!" Ron was flushing a fine scarlet from head to toe and was already turning around to leave.

"WEASLEY! GET IN HERE AND HELP!" Draco yelled between dodging limbs.

Ron found a new shade of red, previously unknown to man. "But...but...I'm not gay! Really!" Ron squeaked, stepping backwards out into the hall.

Draco turned his head to look at them and they saw tears in his eyes. "HARRY'S CONVULSING! FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN...FUCKING HELP ME!" 

Then Hermione was there, chain-casting spells without break, soothing, healing, diagnostic, cooling, one after another. In seconds, the body underneath Draco was breathing softly, still and calm. He pulled himself off of the bed, holding his burned and bitten hand gingerly.

"Thank fucking Merlin you showed when you did. I'd no idea what the fuck just happened...is he alright?"

Hermione started examining Draco's hand while she answered. "The burn, here, this one like Harry's scar...it was a vision. Since he learned Occlumency, Voldemort can't enter his mind, but the prophecy that binds them still brings visions. Not usually this bad, but if his scar was burning, it must have been serious. He's alright, he'll come to in a bit and be fine in an hour, maybe just a wicked headache to show for it, but as soon as we know what the vision was, we have to tell Dumbledore. If it was that bad, it could be something we need to act on immediately."

"That's all? I thought he was bloody dying over a vision? I swear I'll kill him as soon he's well!" Tears were streaming down Draco's cheeks, and in front of people other than Harry at that!

"Fucking Voldemort! I can't come home without risking this happening until that abysmal bastard is dead? Where's the sign up sheet? I'll queue up and do whatever will kill that fucking cancer stain the fastest! I'm not going through this every time that pathetic fuckwit has a new idea!"

Draco was almost ranting as the stress and fear burnt off him. He collapsed onto the bed beside Harry, breathing short fast breaths, trying to calm himself.

Hermione was about to speak, when Harry sat bolt upright eyes wide and gasping for air. His eyes darted wildly, and when they settled on Draco, he lurched forward and wrapped Draco in a bear hug.

Draco was too shaken to hear the whispered mantra at the edge of Harry's lips. "...can't lose you... can't lose you... can't lose you." He couldn't shake Harry loose at all, his grip was like iron.

Hermione kept repeating things like 'it was just a vision Harry' and 'it's alright', but it took almost a minute before anything sank in. Finally, Harry let go and slid back onto the bed gasping, then leaned over the side and vomited noisily. Ron headed for the bathroom for towels and Hermione rattled off a few more Soothing Spells to bring Harry around. 

Draco was still holding his hand when Harry focused his eyes on his lover and croaked a few words.

"I...I'm sorry. Vol...Voldemort...killing...".

Draco put a finger in front of Harry's mouth and told him to hush until he had his wind back. Ron had finished cleaning up the floor by the bed and had thrown the towels into the bath. 

"Oi, mate, I'll fetch Dumbledore. He ought to know whatever's up right off. Be back shortly." Harry nodded and closed his eyes. His face was screwed up in pain from the backlash headache that was kicking in fast. 

Though Harry didn't see it, as Ron left, he looked at Draco's worried face with a new sense of respect. It's one thing to be told your chum is shagging his worst rival, it's another thing to see said rival exhausted and hurt and scared because his boyfriend is sick and convulsing.

The point had been driven home as hard as could be. Draco Malfoy loves Harry...really, desperately loves him. As scary as it may have been, that thought rang in the back of Ron's mind all the way to Dumbledore's office.

Draco got Hermione's agreement on casting Harry's overdue Energizing Spells, and let them flow into Harry, bringing much needed color back to his cheeks. Then he fetched the potion and Harry drank without complaint, but wrinkled his nose in disgust just the same.

It took a few minutes, but Harry finally got his voice under control and started to apologize again.

"Voldemort...I think I saw Hogsmeade; I heard people screaming all around me but I couldn't see them. I was walking down the street toward him, but it was so dark I could barely see anything but him ahead of me. He was just laughing, like nothing I could do would touch him. He knew people were dying all around and he just laughed...then...he...I...well, I blacked out. I can't remember."

Draco caught a hint in Harry's voice he recognized well from others who lied poorly. He knew there was something he wasn't sharing, but kept his silence until they had some time alone.

Hermione Levitated Harry's trunk in from the corridor and settled it near their dressers. Then she settled into the chair by the study desk and started quizzing Harry on his exact health.

Aside from the headache Harry seemed fine, which was astonishing to Draco, given that his lover had been unconscious and convulsing only ten minutes before. Most visions did not hit him this hard, merely incapacitating Harry for seconds or minutes at most, but convulsions were something new and worrisome, even if they were listed as possible side effects of extreme visions and prophetic dreams. It did suggest that whatever Harry had seen held a high chance of coming true. 

Dumbledore entered in a whirl of robes, Ron in tow behind him. "Ah, Harry, good to see you looking better, I had feared the worst, but the ministrations of your friends seem to have done more than well by you." 

Despite his age, he still seemed to tower over the entire room, an enormous and ebullient figure of confidence and majesty. He turned to Draco next.

"Please don't worry, my dear boy, our Harry has endured far worse than this on occasion and come through just smashingly. Let's concentrate on the substance of this vision as quickly as we can, then perhaps we can give you some time alone, hmm?" 

Hermione suddenly coughed...giving Dumbledore a serious glance full of unspoken imperatives. 

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. I know perfectly well that not everyone here is a member of the Order. These are unusual circumstances however. I think perhaps an oath may be called for, that is...assuming Mr. Malfoy would wish to join us?" 

Draco sat up, looked very soberly at the assembled faces and made his decision in a record three seconds. "Yes, absolutely yes, anything to put that murderous prick in the ground. Name your oath, I'll take it...if it gives me a chance to kill that bastard and get our lives back."

Harry exploded off of the bed, green eyes blazing furiously. His veins actually bulged dangerously at the temple and along the cords of his throat! He pointed his finger at Dumbledore and with an expression that bordered on sheer madness he bellowed at the old man.

"NO! NOT HIM! I FORBID HIM TO BE INVOLVED IN ANY OF THIS! IF YOU PUT HIM IN DANGER I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL FUCKING TAKE HIM AND LEAVE YOU TO FIGHT THIS ALONE. TAKE YOUR PROPHECY AND YOUR WAR AND SHOVE THEM IN YOUR ASS, DRACO STAYS OUT OF IT!" 

Dumbledore and the rest were stunned into utter silence by the outburst from Harry. Harry looked at them each with eyes that still seared at a glance, then spoke again, this time with an icy calm that just barely hid a nearly blind rage.

"I'm sorry, but I mean it. No one puts Draco in danger. NO ONE! I'm...I'm not losing him. I'll do what I have to, but he isn't any part of this. I swear I'll walk if I hear anyone is even thinking about putting him where he can get hurt!"

Draco spoke up, indignant, but still scared by the ferocity in Harry's tone.

"I think I have a say in what I do or don't do." He held up his scar-seared and bitten hand. "I think I'm already involved Harry. I'm not saying I want to throw myself to the wolves, but I will NOT be left in the hall every time you discuss anything that relates to your future!" He held his chin up, challenging Harry quite directly.

Harry seemed to deflate instantly. He looked desperate and terribly on edge.

"Alright...okay...compromise. You take an Oath of Loyalty to the Order, but under no circumstances are you to be in any battle. You can counsel, help, heal, support...anything, but please, please, please...just don't risk yourself. If I lose you...well...I don't think I can handle it, I think I'd fold up and die. We have to win, so we can't risk you! You're everything to me, do you understand?!" Harry was bleary-eyed and clearly overwrought. 

Dumbledore broke in, "Harry, I want you to relax. No one is suggesting that Draco become a footsoldier in this. I think his talents lie in his mind, which is very keen indeed. He would serve the Order just as well in counsel, though I daresay that I expect he could hold his own quite well in a duel of wizards, at least as far as I have heard." The last was said with a broad wink to Draco. His merry tone shook the last of the grim shock from the room.

Draco felt appeased, although he still took umbrage at Harry's abrupt assumption of command over Draco's life.

"Right, swear me in, then. I'll serve anyway you'll have me. Harry's life is my life, we win or lose together anyway, don't we?" 

It was grim but true. The stakes of the game were suddenly clear to him. Harry could die, and if he did it would be the ruin of Draco. The same was true for Harry. The loss of Draco would make fighting on impossible. A broken spirit could not stand against Voldemort at strength. For better or worse, they stood as one and might well fall as one.

Dumbledore administered the oath before Harry's watchful and worried eye. Hermione and Ron both congratulated Draco heartily when it was sworn and binding, welcoming him officially to the Order of the Phoenix.

The discussion turned to Harry's vision, and every detail Harry could provide was picked apart. It seemed that, if his vision was accurate at all; an attack would take place in Hogsmeade, likely in the streets themselves, at night, and with Voldemort in attendance looking for Harry. When this might take place was anyone's guess.

When the last of the matter was laid to rest, Hermione and Ron wished them both well, both giving Harry AND Draco a hug (though Ron's hug for Draco was so stiff as to be nearly mechanical), then heading back to Gryffindor after promising to stop over for supper some other time.

Dumbledore seemed to keep prodding Harry for details that may have slipped his memory, but Harry was adamant that he had shared all he could. At last Dumbledore chose to leave, a pained expression on his face, and when Dumbledore looked worried, it scared Draco badly. He gave Harry a bit of time to relax while he finished a few papers for his next day's classes. 

Harry had been silent since Dumbledore had left; he seemed to be feigning sleep, but poorly. Draco had caught Harry staring at him with a look that bordered on despair.

They'd said nothing to each other, until Draco crawled into bed, nervous, angry and afraid of this silent and brooding side of Harry that he barely knew. At the first touch, Harry unfolded around him and pulled him as close as possible, so close it almost hurt.

He could feel Harry's tears against the back of his neck, and Draco reached for the hands that clutched at him so feverishly and took them in his own. It had to be asked.

"I know you didn't tell them something...Harry...I love you... what did you see?" The body against him stiffened.

Harry held his silence interminably, then with a breath and an aching pause, he finally spoke.

"I saw him hurt you. I think he killed you. If you die...I know I'll lose. I can't lose you." His voice was tight, constricted, and his body was beginning to shake from emotions he was holding in only with great effort. "Only I can kill him, and he'll kill everyone, destroy everything, if I don't. If he kills you...it's all over. Everyone dies and suffers if I fail. I...can't...lose...you."

Draco soaked in this newest revelation. This was terrifying, as the curling hairs on his neck and the gooseflesh on his arms and legs gave testament. One of Harry's extreme, prophetic, 'likely to come true' visions had shown him dying at Voldemort's hands? Was this the price for being in love with Harry? Was this some freakish karmic fate to be delivered whenever he felt too safe or secure? Harry needed him, the tension behind him was palpable.

"Harry, I'll be fine. You warned me, I'll stay away from battles and be fine. Nothing will happen to me, you'll kill the Dark Prat and come home and we'll live happily ever after, you'll see. I promise." He meant it too.

No Slytherin worth his salt would walk into certain death, so as long as he let his Slytherin side guide him, he'd be safe, Harry would win, and the wizarding world would celebrate. It had to be that way. As they drifted into a nervous slumber tinged with fear and wisps of nightmare, that mantra rolled through Draco's mind over and over again.

When Draco woke, the room was still and quiet. Draco hadn't budged for over an hour, still wrapped in Harry's arms, refusing to break the spell of tranquility the morning brought over them.

When Harry finally showed signs of waking, Draco turned in his arms and burrowed his face into Harry's neck. Harry sighed and stroked the fine locks of blonde hair, murmuring sleepy words of love all the while.

They stayed that way for perhaps an hour, until Draco knew he had precious little time left before he needed to dress and go. He rose with reluctance, and Harry watched him in earnest silence while he dressed and spelled himself clean.

He cast the prescribed spells and watched Harry down his potion, then kissed him despite the horrid aftertaste of the magic brew he'd just imbibed. He leaned his head forward and rested his brow on Harry's.

After a second he whispered, "I'll always come back to you, I'll always come home. I love you." 

Harry smiled wanly. "I love you, too. Just be careful, love. I feel better, really. See you soon." Then he tilted his head and planted a long kiss on Draco's neck, making Draco's toes try to curl right through his shoes. 

They finally separated, and Draco left with one last look back at his bedridden lover, winked to him while smiling, then trudged out to meet the day.


	23. This Was His Life

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 23 'This Was His Life'

Draco's day passed swiftly; a blur of classes, planning, homework and odd looks from the still stunned students who mourned the double loss of the school's two most desirable bachelors.

Harry's day passed slowly, dragging endlessly, even though he felt better than he had in days. He lounged, showered and even exercised lightly. House-elves brought him a small breakfast that looked appealing, but that might as well have tasted like ashes for all the appetite he possessed.

The vision hung over his head, like a black and ponderous thundercloud, chasing away any shred of happiness he dared to entertain. His visions had been accurate for the most part; only the minor details were subject to some interpretation, and the sight of Draco falling to Voldemort's spell gnawed viciously at Harry's soul like a rabid hyena.

It chilled him right to the marrow, that his first and only love could be lost, like everyone else this stupid war had taken from him. He paced the suite restlessly, tried to read some of the homework he had to catch up on, and even tried practicing wandless magic with small items on the study desk for an hour.

It was almost lunchtime when he finally decided to make an appearance. He had his wind back, and it would be good to see Draco, if only for a half hour or so. Sitting still hadn't improved his mood, so maybe a little socializing would help. He pulled on his robes and headed down to lunch.

Draco had just settled a minor Slytherin dispute between fourth-years in the hall. Mostly just kids venting some stress about their new duties. Old habits were hard to break, and sniping at each other was one of them. It was annoying and trivial, but Draco was proud of the way he'd handled it. Just a few calm words to each of them, and the promise of some small rewards for doing a good job coaching the first-years, and all had been settled quickly and quietly. 

Only a few more hours and he'd be able to see Harry and talk about plans for the weekend. Draco wasn't even paying attention on the way to the dining hall, when he felt his wand leap from his pocket. He turned to find a pair of fairly large Gryffindor sixth-years looming behind him and smirking, one holding his wand high.

"Just look at that, will you? I just pulled the little snake's fangs! Wonder what the wee shite has to say for himself now?" The wand holder was chuckling while Draco started to turn a dangerous shade of red. Then his chum started in.

"No wonder Potter's a Parselmouth, gotta be one to talk down to a sodding snake in it's own tongue! Doesn't look like it's got any bite at all now, though, does it?" The taller of the two poked a finger at Draco, only to have it slapped away by a quick and angry hand.

Draco gave a glare that might have withered flesh on smarter creatures, then spoke softly and clearly. "You don't want to do this. You can't even imagine what will happen to you. This is fun right now, this second, but think about tomorrow, like getting to have a tomorrow. It doesn't have to be like this."

The wand holder cut him off, "It is like this, get it! Gryffindor doesn't need any bloody snakes. Not now, not ever. You're from a pack of death-eating scum and no polishing up is gonna change you. You can ride Potter's wand forever but nobody's fooled by it!"

He handed Draco's wand to his friend and then lunged forward and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes. Draco struggled and tried to pry those hands loose, but he was already a few inches off the floor, dangling and furious at his own helplessness. 

Then Harry was there...Draco couldn't even remember where he'd come from, but he was suddenly in the middle of them and Draco was dropped unceremoniously to the floor during the scuffle.

As soon as Draco got his bearings, he saw one boy lying on the floor holding his throat and rasping as he tried to pull in short breaths of air. Harry must have hit him hard in the throat. Harry was sitting atop the other boy's chest and was steadily banging the boy's head into the stones of the floor again and again, growling a few scarcely coherent words. "You...don't...touch...him!" 

Harry was scarlet, and his eyes were glazed over with rage. He wasn't stopping and the other boy could be seriously hurt soon. Draco tried to pull Harry off the unconscious body he was on, but when he touched Harry's shoulder, a fist lashed back fast and caught him across the temple, sending him reeling back to the floor, stars dancing across his vision. 

This was the scene when Professor McGonagall stepped into the hall. Draco Malfoy tearily begging Harry to stop from a safe distance, while Harry, fueled by bloodlust and blind fury, pistol whipped an unconscious student with his fist. The other student was crawling across the floor, still trying to pull air through a bruised throat, and was wide eyed and desperate for breath. McGonagall's voice tore through the hall like a train whistle.

"HARRY POTTER! STOP THIS AT ONCE! YOU ARE KILLING THAT BOY!" Her wand was already out and ready to intervene by spell if needed. 

Harry's rage seemed to slide away, he looked confused and tired. His color was fast fading from brilliant red to no more than a faint flush. He looked at his hand, covered in the blood from the other boy's face, then slumped over in a dead faint.

McGonagall took charge swiftly; applying Spells of Healing to the injured boys, checking Harry to ensure he was merely unconscious and not seriously ill, then sending the one standing Gryffindor to fetch assistance in carrying his friend to the hospital ward. 

Harry came to in less than a minute, and McGonagall curtly instructed them to follow her to her office. Harry followed in mute and shamed silence, while Draco hovered near him, half afraid that Harry might fall down again, but still uncomfortable with Harry's silence after having struck him that way. Draco's temple was throbbing...and he suspected he'd by sporting a shiner by the day's end.

They sat beside each other in Professor McGonagall's office while she began writing a few notes in angry silence. When she had composed herself she finally raised her head and looked upon them in crisp disdain.

"I should like to hear from Harry first. What possibly could have moved you to such an act of barbarism? You of all people, Harry. To beat a student bloody and unconscious? Explain yourself this instant."

Harry could barely bring himself to meet her level gaze. "I...I came around the corner. They had his wand and one of them was holding him off the ground. I'm sorry, I really am. I don't remember anything after that...until you shouted at me to stop. Everything was red and I felt like my head was going to split. I didn't mean to go so far, I just had to make them stop. I couldn't let them hurt him." Harry hung his head and sighed. He was too ashamed to say anything more.

"That is unacceptable; to commit such an act, even provoked, is grounds for expulsion! Harry, this cannot go unpunished. Your position is unusual, but I cannot allow this kind of conduct under any circumstances. Be silent and I shall have Mr. Malfoy's account of this." She turned an icy gaze to Draco. 

"It's true, Professor. They spelled my wand off me and then one grabbed me. I tried to tell them to drop it, but they had some grudge about me seeing Harry. I was trying to get loose when Harry charged into them."

"Your cheek and eye, Mr. Malfoy. Did one of them strike you?", she asked bluntly.

"Uh...no...not really, I...well...Harry was on one of them and wouldn't stop hitting him. I tried to pull him off. I think he thought I was one of them, he just knocked me back. He didn't mean to hit me."

The words coming from his mouth made it a sudden reality. His Harry had hit him. He'd been almost crazy and he'd nearly killed another student. Was this the man he was in love with? Should he be afraid of his lover? He didn't mean it...a hollow phrase that echoed through every abusive relationship in history, now slipping from the tongue of a Malfoy heir. He was so ashamed he wanted to crawl away and hide.

Harry was stricken; he was white and shaking at the realization of what he'd done. He started to tremble, then bolted upright and fled toward the office's bathroom. The professor was livid.

"Mr. Potter! We are not finished here! Get back in your seat this instant!" Then she heard the noisy evidence of Harry vomiting up his meager breakfast and the ragged sobs that followed. Her irritation flickered and fell. She sighed and turned to Draco. "See that he's alright, I will return in a moment. Be seated and ready to continue to this discussion when I return." Then she stood and left the room, leaving Draco silent and alone in the office.

Draco was of two minds. Mostly he wanted to run to Harry and soothe him, let him know it was alright. The swelling flesh around his left cheek and eye said otherwise. A few weeks ago, he would have cursed anyone with the temerity to strike him, provoked or otherwise. What would it say about him if he ran to the side of a lover who had struck him in anger?

He was still mulling over ugly thoughts like these and scowling...when he realized Harry was standing in front of him, still white faced and looking almost suicidal. He couldn't bring himself to speak. What could possibly said about this?

He was just staring into those red-rimmed emeralds searching for some place to begin, when Harry dropped to his knees and threw himself into Draco's lap. Draco's hands moved without volition, winding themselves through that dark hair and stroking his weeping boyfriend's head. Tears were running down his cheeks while he choked on his own silence, trying to maintain just the slightest dignity in the face of this disaster.

Harry began to speak, rambling and hoarse. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it! Draco, I love you, please tell me you can forgive me. Please! I didn't know it was you; I don't remember anything, you have to believe me. I'd never do that to you, I swear it, love. Please, please don't...don't go. I need you...I...when I saw them, with you...like that...I just went crazy, it was all red and I just couldn't stop."

It was so hard to answer, Draco almost choked on words trying to hold himself back. He couldn't just let this go so casually, no matter how badly he wanted to throw himself into Harry's arms and make this go away. 

"I love you," Draco whispered, "...but this can't happen again. I believe you, Harry. Really. Don't ever think I don't love you. I know you love me, too, but...this can't happen again. No one else has to know about this; I can cast a Glamour and it won't show...this time. But you have to understand I will never hide another bruise from you again. I swear I'll move back to Slytherin if I even think you'll hit me again. I won't live like that, not even for you."

Harry shook with relief and grabbed hold of him, half-pulling him off the chair. They sat on the stones of the floor, Draco holding Harry, while the dark haired boy lost control and sobbed his thanks and promises; a perverse mirror of that night at the Pensieve almost two weeks ago. Harry had seemed like the strong one then, it tore Draco in half to need to be strong now.

The word surreal came to him, not for the first time since they'd grown close, his life was surreal. Nothing like the life he'd had before. Everything had been so certain and sure, learned by rote and predictable. Now his every day was a chaotic world of cruel uncertainties. Dizzying highs and crushing lows. Madness, just madness...and Merlin help him but he loved it.

He craved this, even with its pains and sorrows and fears; it made him feel so terrifyingly alive and awake that he had no words that could make it clear and sane. Just emotions that coursed and pounded through him like whitewater. He wanted to hate it, but he couldn't. This was his life, the only real one he'd ever had. He wouldn't surrender it so easily.

McGonagall stepped back into the office and they reluctantly parted and took their seats, daubing their eyes and attempting to make themselves presentable enough to meet her steely gaze. The professor did them the kindness of ignoring their total state of disarray and granting them a few silent minutes to compose themselves. Finally, she uttered a patently false cough, then spoke in a sober and dangerous tone.

"Mr. Malfoy, it is apparent that you have twice been the victim here. There shall be no punishment of any kind for you. I have spoken to Madam Pomfrey and the young men in question will both recover, though one will remain in her care for a few days, owing to a series of concussions. I shall be speaking to the both of them at length regarding their conduct, and I offer you an apology for the conduct of students from my house. I believe that the taking of twenty-five points from Gryffindor for each of them will be sufficient punishment, given that they have already been hospitalized over their foolishness.

I have also had a moment of communication with the Headmaster. Regarding Harry's conduct, there can be no excusing such a serious breach of trust. This is not a Muggle romance novel...beating a student near to death even in defense of a loved one is absolutely intolerable. Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for your actions, Mr. Potter. You will attend detention in this office each day after classes. I assume you are well enough to attend classes, since you apparently have no difficulty mauling your classmates.

You shall likewise have no leave of school grounds or visits to Hogsmeade until I decide otherwise, and lastly...if there is another instance such as this, or any conduct that calls into question your judgement, you shall return to Gryffindor dorms and dwell there. Dumbledore agrees that although he granted you permission to reside together, this privilege can and will be taken away if you prove unworthy of it. I suggest you give careful thought to what you've done and develop some self-control. You are dismissed. I shall see you again in this room tomorrow after breakfast." 

Draco stood and held a hand out to Harry, who was still sitting in stunned silence, red faced and fairly dripping with self-hatred and shame. Harry took the offered hand like a lifeline and left the room in tow behind Draco, hanging his head like a bashful child. They walked in silence until they reached their room, their sanctum and safe house in Hogwarts, now in jeopardy of being stripped from them if another incident stemmed from their relationship.

Draco took a deep breath. "I have classes to attend. I have to go. Can we talk after I get back?" It was so cursed hard to look Harry in the eyes. That tortured anguish that was spelled out for the world to see was playing across his face in a way that made Draco want to wrap himself around Harry. Harry seemed to have trouble forming words without falling apart, so he nodded pitifully and let go of Draco's hand.

Something more had to be said, and Draco marshalled his thoughts, "We'll get through this, it's going to be okay, Harry. Just get a little rest and when I get back we'll talk about it then, but I love you as much today as I did yesterday. Don't be afraid of anything like that." He leaned up to kiss Harry's cheek and Harry turned just enough to meet his lips instead.

A weak smile was on Harry's face when their lips finally parted, and he finally spoke coherently, if a little hoarsely. "I'll be okay, as long as I have you I'll be okay. I can get through anything as long as I know you love me. We can talk more later, I don't want to put you as far behind as I got this week. We'd both be scratching out homework all night and that's no fun."

Draco slipped into a hug and sighed with relief. Then he was off to class, Harry behind him in the hall, watching every step his lover took with an aching heart and soul.

Draco waited until he was well away before he cast the Glamour that disguised his swelling eye and cheek. He hoped some minor Healing Charms would speed the recovery enough to make it disappear before he had to see his father. That subject still hung unspoken, as the last day's distractions had killed every plan he'd had to speak of it, and now Harry was under suspension and may not be able to join him, even if it was for something very important.

It was a right shit of a day, he thought, and it was only half over! Draco silently offered up a prayer for some tiny improvement in their situation, but as with all prayers, there was no reply to tell him whether it would be granted or ignored.


	24. Closer

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 24 'Closer'

The day's classes came to an end and Draco made it back to his and Harry's suite without incident. He stood outside the door a moment, steeling himself for the intensity that would make up the rest of his evening. His hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out the jewel that now traveled with him every day. He stared into the face of the amethyst and let the two images carry him away from everything for a moment. 

In the heart of the jewel, it was so easy to see why he loved Harry. Only a man with a spirit full of wonder and love could have made a thing like this just for him. That precious memory, that first incredible kiss, trapped in a matrix of crystal, to stand as a permanent record of a love that shouldn't be hidden or quashed. Then, more telling than any memory, Harry standing and mouthing the words 'I love you', sober, conscious and deliberately for the first time. 

The only time he'd ever spoken those words to anyone, and they had been spoken to him, Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater, notorious slut, childhood rival and ruthless liar. A man who could see through all that and love him could not be bad. Maybe stubborn and wrong headed and afraid, but never evil, never deliberately cruel. This was worth working for, it just had to be. Mind made up, and full of new determination, Draco stepped through the door and faced the conversation they needed to have. 

Harry put down his pen and stood up from the study desk, looking so very tall and fine, even though his brow was furrowed with tension and fear. Draco smiled at the sight of him, and thought of the jewel in his pocket, then stepped into Harry's arms and hugged the big git.

"Told you everything's fine. If you have to defend my honor just throw a few Petrificus or Expelliarmus at people. No one's going to worry about that."

Harry chuckled, then leaned down to kiss Draco's cheek, jerking away in shame when Draco winced with pain from his hidden bruise. Harry gulped back his tears, determined not have another collapse.

"Gods, Draco. I don't know how to say how sorry I really am. The vision...with Voldemort, I just couldn't take seeing someone hurting you. I went off so fast I never had time to think. I'd never, ever hurt you. If I'd just looked I'd have seen you or something, but I was out of control. I know it's wrong, but when I think of people hurting you I just...I kind of go crazy. I promise I'll try to get a grip on myself and practice some Occlumency to get control of my mind. That's what I spent the last three hours on; I just want to be safe for you. I'll do anything."

Draco let him ramble a bit longer, put a finger on his lover's lips to hush him, then sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning for Harry to sit beside him.

"Harry, we'll be fine. I know you're worried about me, but I'm not a fragile little flower. I know I'm pretty and you can't possibly hope to resist my many charms, but I am not a spun glass ornament that will crumble from a little rough handling. I trust you not to hurt me, but you have to get this through your handsome but thick head...I'm a bottom, not a fucking maiden to be rescued. I can handle some bumps and scrapes, and I'll get well if I get hurt. I'll also make people pay for any crimes against me in my own time and way. I won't throw myself in the path of mortal danger, the world has Gryffindors for that...I'll be in the background coming up with a plan or spell that will fuck up my enemies' world. Your job is to execute said plan or spell. Meditate on that for awhile and maybe you'll calm down some."

Harry seemed greatly relieved and made it clear that he was able to grasp these basic truths. They slumped into a long and happy snogging session that did much to plane away the rough edges around their moods.

Eventually Draco mustered the sense to broach the touchy topic of his father. Harry listened with patience and a look of earnest sympathy, even when hearing of Lucius being up for the Kiss. He didn't look gleeful or happy, just concerned...and sad.

"I'll ask McGonagall if I can go with you Saturday. I don't know if I actually want to see Lucius myself, since I know he doesn't like me and I don't want it to be the worse for you, but I can be there when you're done. I think, for this, she'd let me go. I know she sounded awful today, but she really isn't that bad. She was just very disappointed in me. You shouldn't have to do this alone; she'll see that right off."

"Don't worry too much. I can deal with it if I have to, but I just really want you around afterwards. Sometimes my father is a bit, well...how to put it...vicious. He wasn't always like that, Harry. He used to be wonderful when I was little. When Voldemort made his presence known he started getting weirder and quieter and meaner. Now he just sits in that cell all day, saving up anger to take out on visitors. Mother won't even go to see him anymore. I'd kind of like to visit her briefly, too. Just to see her, since she hasn't been writing like she used to, and I haven't seen her since the holidays. Would you be okay seeing Malfoy Manor just for an hour or so? It's warded against everyone but Mother and myself, so I'm sure it's safe for me to bring you through." 

Harry looked at him with real pride. "I'd love to see where you grew up. I never thought I'd look forward to going to Malfoy Manor, but I just really want to see where you came from. Just one of those things I always took for granted, and that I suddenly knew I was all wrong about the day after we got together. You know I'm really sorry about your mother being ill. If there's a way I can help you or her I'll do it. I'm honored even to be asked." 

They curled back into each other's arms and settled down to some more long overdue snogging. Draco asked about the need for an Energizing Spell or a potion, and Harry, who was working his way down the side of Draco's neck with hungry lips, informed him that nothing was needed, he felt very, very well. He then proceeded to prove the point by pulling Draco's hand down to the straining bulge in Harry's slacks. 

They lolled about in silence, save for the occasional smacking of lips or the stray moan or sigh of pleasure. They took their time of it, peeling away layers of clothing with agonizing slowness, each article of clothing slipping to the floor after a few more minutes spent snogging each other half crazy.

They let the time tick by as they worked their way to naked splendor, exploring each other's bodies with busy, grateful hands and probing tongues. Harry lavished attention around Draco's groin, just as had been done to him the morning before. This time he followed Draco's cruel pattern of shifting rhythms, never allowing a single pace to bring Draco to orgasm.

Draco was taut as a harp string and almost vibrating with tension when Harry slipped away from his ministrations and whispered into his lover's ear, "I want you inside of me...please, I love you, Draco," then reached to the jar of lubricant and began to work his slick hand around Draco's swollen member.

Draco was flushed and nervous, but at least the fact that he was desperately horny was covering his tension about this. He loved the way that strong hand was working his erection, and he slipped his fingers into the jar and took a dollop of lubricant for himself. 

Still kissing while Harry stroked him, Draco slipped his hand around Harry's waist and began to massage and oil Harry's virgin entrance. This was about as far as he had ever gotten with anyone...as far as topping went.

No one had ever excited him quite the way Harry did, and the notion of being in someone else's body had never attracted him before. Yet, when Harry broke their kiss with a feverish moan as Draco's fingers teased and oiled him, Draco felt his own erection twitching in excitement in Harry's hand, precome slipping from the head and mingling with the oil already soaking his stiff and aching dick.

Harry silently rolled onto his stomach and submitted to Draco's every touch with quiet sounds of pleasure and small laughs. When the time came, Harry was sprawled before him...long limbs spread like a great and lazy panther, green eyes shining with curiosity and an almost feral hunger. 

Draco's breath was hitched in his throat. He was poised at Harry's back, knees between Harry's legs, oiled and ready, but terrified. He pressed the very head of his dick against that slicked and waiting opening, then pushed slowly forward. He hadn't gotten the angle right, and he heard Harry's tiny hiss and felt muscles tighten in rebellion against what he was attempting.

He waited, stroking the muscles of Harry's back, massaging the tension from those muscles the way a long absent, and now meaningless, former partner had once done for him his first time. Harry slowly settled himself and started to push back against the intruding member, welcoming it, experimenting with its feel, and teasing Draco with small motions that hinted at the deeper entry yet to come. 

As Harry made himself comfortable, Draco was able to slide a little further with every passing minute, still surprised when he realized that the entire head of penis was securely inside his lover's body.

How alien it felt! Not at all unpleasant, especially since Harry had such a magnificent body, all tawny muscles and smooth, lean limbs. The heat and tightness that enveloped his aching member was the most confusing part of it. It did feel good, as good as any mouth or fist ever had. Perhaps not better, but fine in its own way.

Harry was still shifting his hips in slow but determined little strokes that drew Draco in further still. Draco pulled back gently, then slid forward in a slow and even way, only going a little further than he had been when he started the move. Harry purred out a vocal rhythm of contentment as Draco kept doing just that, taking himself and Harry a little further as he went. 

Soon he found himself pressed firmly into Harry's backside, his sac brushing against the back of Harry's, completely buried in Harry's soft and welcoming heat. The friction was new to him; his pace wasn't certain, and he hadn't the slightest notion what he was doing...but Harry seemed comfortable and relaxed, occasionally running a hand behind him to stroke Draco's thigh, as well as sighing and uttering quiet little benedictions of approval and love.

Draco had no urge to orgasm, not like this, even though he liked that Harry seemed pleased. He tried a few changes; he needed to find that spot his finger had found so easily before. It was a lot harder than he'd imagined; manipulating an unseen spot inside another person with his penis was surprisingly hard to accomplish. He suddenly appreciated the handful of dates over the years who had at least bothered to try.

He knew instantly when he'd found it. Harry responded with a sudden tightening around him and a low moan that actually filled him with pride. He had a good feel for how to find that perfect place and ran with it...Harry's moans changed from low and long to short and high within minutes. That impressive tool was jutting out from under Harry's left hip and leaking an equally impressive amount of precome onto the sheets.

Draco worked harder and more enthusiastically on Harry in just that one way, even though it was an effort that was making him sweat from head to toe. His breath was short and ragged while he kept that wicked pace Harry seemed to enjoy so much.

The muscles of his thighs and calves were burning; his eyes were stinging from drops of sweat and his vision was almost swimming when Harry reached his limit and tensed violently, shouting loudly and laughing in desperate relief, his twitching cock spurting onto the sheets beneath them again and again.

Every burst from Harry brought the sensation of a hot, slick, and tightly clenched fist around Draco's cock. That and Harry's cries finally pushed him over the edge and he felt his own organ jerking inside Harry. The sensitivity of his own head increased a hundredfold in an instant, and suddenly he screamed incoherent curses and blessings into Harry's ears as he exploded, breathless and exhausted into his lover's arse. He collapsed onto Harry's back, a sweating and aching wreck, barely able to register the sound of Harry's deliriously happy laughter beneath him. 

Draco remembered Harry rolling him over onto his back, as he seemed to be having difficulty lifting his own limbs...no wonder some of his old dates had passed out snoring immediately after sex! He was exhausted the way a man who had taken a ten mile jog uphill would be.

His lungs felt they were going to implode, his legs were shaking even though he attempted to lay still. Harry was kissing him on the neck and shoulders; it was all he could do to turn his head and make a weak smile for Harry to kiss, and even that had to end...he still needed air and Harry's face was in the way. Harry seemed to be in a cuddling mood, so Draco grabbed his head and pulled it to his chest, stroking his fingers through that messy dark hair while Draco recuperated in silence. 

Harry stood up and wobbled toward the bathroom, the oddest look on his face. Draco spared himself a chuckle. For once one of his sex partners would have a clue as to why he always wound up excusing himself afterwards. That was a small comfort. 

Draco was fairly certain he had no great desire to feel this way again, not that it had been that awful, but his inner nature seemed to declare that this was far more work for a mere orgasm than he was able to endure...and still have the strength left to properly enjoy the actual fucking orgasm.

His respect for the concept of 'topping' had increased quite a bit, though. He'd been with 'bad' and 'good' and even some 'great' tops before, but now he had a keener understanding of what set the best apart from the worst.

Harry really was an athlete of champion level in bed, and in the short time they'd been lovers, he'd proven over and over again that he had stamina, patience and a strong sense of empathy that helped him find what pleased Draco best. What had nearly killed Draco to manage once, was something that Harry delivered up without complaint a half dozen times in a single night, all with unflagging enthusiasm and gentle skill. No wonder he'd been hooked on Harry after one half-remembered night!

Harry stalked back into the room, a tall, dark, handsome satyr with wonderfully mussed hair and an expression of adoration on his face. He curled up beside Draco with a very satisfied air about him, sighing happily and using his wand to cast a few Cleaning Spells for the both of them.

He settled in next to a sedate and nearly comatose Draco. "It couldn't have been that bad, love. I'd have guessed you enjoyed it by the way you filled me up like a sodding water balloon when you had it off. You were great. I mean...I know I don't really have anyone else to go by for a comparison, but I thought you were really good. Rough going at the first, but you were really nice about going easy 'til I was okay with it." He curled closer and kissed Draco's sweating brow and flushed cheek. "Are you alright, love? Can't you say anything?" 

Draco opened his mouth, gasping like a fish for a second before words came to him. "How...do...you...do...this...so...easy? I think I'm gonna die. Everything hurts. My legs, my thighs, my back, my chest...Gods. I don't think I can move. I know I came and all, but I don't think I'm cut out for this. You'd better not be thinking about this again for months, because I think I need that long just to recover."

"No pressure love, I promise. I just wanted you to be my first in every way, and now I'm finally your real first at something like this! I'm not saying I'll never want this again. Frankly, I want you any way I can have you, but I'm fine doing anything as long as it's with you. Honestly, I just thought it would bring us closer to do that, and I think it did."

Harry gave every sign of being completely sated, although a good part of that was that soft burn of friction that was following on the heels of his orgasm, making his backside distinctly uncomfortable. How Draco found that appealing was utterly beyond him. 

He'd liked the parts where Draco had been comfortably inside him, but the entry and the aftermath had been nothing to sing and dance over. Additionally, Harry privately thanked the Gods that Draco did not have an appendage of similar size to his own. Knowing what it felt like to have one inside him, he had a sudden clarity about what would have happened to him if anything the size of his own had tried to go into him. It wasn't a comforting thought.

Draco had most of his wind back at last. He pulled himself up to the pillows and laid back gently, amazed at the way the little muscles of his stomach were shrieking in protest.

"Merlin, Harry, I feel like I've been tortured by Death Eaters for the last hour. How you lot manage to enjoy yourselves doing that is a mystery to me. I can't say you don't have a dead sexy ass, you really do, but if you put me through this anytime soon it might be the fucking death of me." Harry was pulling the covers over them and righting the sheets.

"That's alright, love, I just really wanted this tonight. I guess I wanted to show that I trust you to not hurt me. I feel like I owe you that much respect, after what I did. I really love you, every way, no conditions." Harry slid in beside him, idly stroking Draco's chest. 

"Oh...Harry, you don't owe me anything for being here. This is what I want. I wanted to be here, and maybe there are some scary parts I'm just getting used to, but I love you. If you owe me anything...it's six months of shagging me stupid for putting me through the wringer tonight." 

They both laughed and curled into 'spoon' mode proper. They chattered of small things, finally enjoying each other's closeness as they should have all along. Sleep crept upon them slow but sure, and they drifted off to slumber peacefully, sore and tired, but happy in the face of everything that daunted them. As long they had each other, nothing seemed quite so awful.


	25. Fear Hurts

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 25 'Fear Hurts'

Saturday morning was a moment of bliss and a nice change of pace. Harry and Draco woke early and managed to actually make it through the process of showering and dressing without an attack of tawdry teen lust.

This was largely due to the cramping of formerly unused muscles that plagued Draco's every step, and the lingering soreness that Harry was not enjoying at all, despite Draco's many claims that it was his favorite part of the 'after sex' experience.

Harry had an appointment with Professor McGonagall, but they still had plenty of time to enjoy a first public breakfast as a couple. Given the mood of at least a few Gryffindors and Slytherins, maybe a public reminder that the matter of Harry and Draco dating was closed to discussion would do a little good. 

They walked the hallways and stairs holding hands, which was something that made more than a few students quiet and nervous, but then again, perhaps the fact that two members of Harry's own house had just been hospitalized for even threatening his boyfriend had something to do with the stares they received.

Breakfast was just getting underway when they walked in, and the room was dead silent as soon as it registered on the other students that the most infamous couple in the history of Hogwarts had just entered.

Harry and Draco paused in shock. This kind of intense scrutiny was really unnerving! They scanned the room, looking for hostility, but finding nothing more than curiousity, jealousy and a little awe. Then someone started to clap. Several Gryffindors stood and started to join the applauding student. Blaise and Pansy joined next, inciting another handful of Slytherins and Gryffindors to throw themselves into the mix. Hufflepuff almost rose as one, in large part due to their inherent sentimentality (these were the kids who would one day cry at every wedding, after all), and with reluctance, the rest of the room finally relented and added themselves to the ovation. 

Draco was flushing scarlet with acute embarrassment. Harry was just staring like a poleaxed steer, numb with shock but too stubborn to fall over.

Hermione walked to them and pointed to the front of the room, "We had a special table set up for you a couple days ago, just down from the staff table. We were just waiting for both of you to make it down together. Take your seats! Go on, everyone's waiting!"

They walked through the cheering hall, waving hello to friends and making sheepish thanks to classmates. The staff looked like they largely approved, though Snape looked utterly horrified at this kind of public spectacle. Dumbledore, however, had a twinkle in his eye that was visible from the other end of the hall!

The boys sat down as the cheering subsided and gave them a moment's peace and a chance to recover a hint of dignity. That's when Harry picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that graced their private table.

The headline blared: 'THE BOY WHO LOVED? Saviour Of Wizarding World Dating Malfoy Heir!' The article that followed was wildly inaccurate and full of speculation, but not the usual spiteful gossip, there was even an odd tone of affectionate curiosity to the entire article.

Draco looked stricken, after all, he was a celebrity in his own right, but Harry's fame suddenly became real to him for the first time. At least the pictures of him were good; he'd had perfect hair, but he hated the sneer he used to wear more than ever when he saw it looking at him from the page, right next to Harry's wide smile and friendly sincerity. 

"Well, I guess a formal announcement won't be necessary in the society pages, hmm?" Draco fell back on nervously quipping to cut the weird tension. Harry giggled and ran his hand threw his hair, then looked at the Gryffindor table, where his friends and a few other were signing 'thumbs up' to him. 

"This is the craziest thing I've ever seen. I hate the limelight, but I guess it loves us. Gods, it just dawned on me that we may never get any peace outside of Hogwarts! What if every step we make gets watched like the royals?" Harry was reeling at the thought that such an inconvenience might make Draco's life as difficult as his own. 

Draco tucked into a sweet roll with gusto, washing some down with tea, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Why wouldn't they? After all, I can't imagine anything better than me being with you. Why shouldn't the rest of the world want the same, even though they can only ever live it vicariously through the Prophet?"

Draco's tone was all glib innocence, but his eyes spoke of the importance of what he'd just said. Harry wasn't blind, a bit near-sighted, but not blind. He smiled across the table and was faintly flushed with pride while he heaped food onto his plate and started piling into a breakfast that made Draco's look like a light snack.

"How is it that you can hold all that and still look that good. Really, Harry, that's an obscene amount of food."

"C'mon, love, I've been on short rations or sick for most of the week, I'm starved for a real breakfast. You wonder how I have the energy for 'ahem' performing at night, well, sports cars don't run on fumes." Harry was smirking, in between mouthfuls of eggs, kippers, toast and preserves.

Draco couldn't help but laugh. This day was starting off too well. Compared to the usual grind this felt positively unnatural. That cursed word, surreal, came back to him again. He'd have to give that word up entirely, surreal was quickly becoming his reality.

Their breakfast was a pleasure, despite the interruption of students wandering up to offer congratulations or praise their courage. The one Gryffindor that had quickly healed from Harry's attack came forward, albeit very sheepishly, and apologized thoroughly for making an ass of himself, then slunk back to his seat looking relieved that his apology had been accepted so graciously.

It was strange, eating apart from their classmates for the first time, but it had its charm. Particularly since a gesture like this showed a huge undercurrent of support for them, and that was something neither Harry nor Draco had expected.

Draco had plans to work on Slytherin changes with Blaise and Pansy, and Harry had special detention with McGonagall, so when the breakfast hour was over they rose to leave.

Draco, feeling impish and rebellious, leaned over and gave Harry a quick and chaste kiss on the cheek, drawing whistles and cheers from around the room, then he sauntered away, only turning his head to wink at Harry once before he left. Harry stood stock still, painfully aware of all the attention on him. Ron and Hermione strolled up, all smiles.

"Didn't count on that did ya, mate?" Ron barked, punching Harry on the shoulder. 

Hermione chimed in. "We passed the word to a few people that you two had dealt with a lot of utter nonsense and needed a break. Looks like it worked." She had the air about her of one who had planned a successful surprise party and had enjoyed the shocked looks of the guest of honor.

"You...you planned this? Guys, I can't believe you. This was brilliant! I just wish I'd had a little warning...I mean...you know I hate all that attention and rubbish, but this was still sweet, especially the private table. I hadn't even thought of where we were going to sit. It could have pissed a few people off if we snubbed one house for the other."

Harry was impressed by that most thoughtful gesture. It really helped, especially in light of Draco's efforts to pacify Slytherin's enmity with all other human beings in Hogwarts.

Ron was beaming. "If we can't embarrass our own chums who can we embarrass? Hermione thought of the table, I just wanted some of the lads to give you two a cheer. That, and I had a few words with Ferguson, the one you popped in the throat. Told him he'd never sleep a safe night in Gryffindor this year if he didn't make nice right quick. The daft fucks cost us 100 points, and I know 50 were yours, but they wouldn't have happened at all if they'd shut their bloody gobs and left well enough alone. You shoulda heard what Neville said to 'em! I've never even seen him pissed before. He threatened to hang 'em from the tower windows by their feet and cover the ledge above them with pigeon seed! I thought I'd bust a gut!"

Hermione broke off Ron's rant. "Really, Harry, those two louts were an exception to the rule. We just wanted you to know how many people are happy for you, even if they're still not sure about Draco, they believe in you and they want you to be happy."

"An' it doesn't hurt having the former President and Founder of the 'We Hate Draco Malfoy Society' as your spokesperson either! I figure why not, after all, you were the Treasurer and Hermione was the Secretary and Vice President. I may not be switching over to being a full time 'Malfoy cheerleader', but you were right, he's not at all like I'd thought he'd be. Pretty decent at the core, too bad he hid it under all that silly shite all this time."

Ron's speech had left Harry floored. He grabbed Ron and pulled him into a bear hug, picking the huge red headed prat up off the ground for a minute then dropping him back to his feet. 

"You're the best, mate. You too, 'Mione. How do I even say how much I love you two? I have detention with McGonagall coming, so I have to run, but we have to hold a private celebration...mine and Draco's place, soonest! How's that?" 

Hermione and Ron agreed and Harry tousled Ron's hair and planted a wet kiss on Hermione's forehead, then started off to detention. Ron held Hermione's hand quietly while they watched him leave.

Hermione looked up at Ron, still beaming with pride. "I don't think I've ever seen him that happy. You know, I thought you'd be more of a pain about this; I'm very proud of you, Ron."

Ron blushed furiously and looked down, "Oh, fuck all, 'Mione. He always was there for us, even when he shouldn't have been. What am I supposed to do, tell him to piss off after six years just 'cause he's shag-crazy for Mal- Draco? Can't. He's a good mate, an' if it makes him this happy, I guess I'll learn to deal." 

He was scuffing his feet on the floor and looked for all the world like a mutant giant eight year old who'd just been caught in the cookie jar and had no excuse. Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned against his chest.

"Come on, O Master Of Poetry, let's take a trip to the Astronomy Tower."

"It's broad daylight! What the hell would we..."Ron stopped cold as sudden realization struck him. "Oh right...ya know, the stars are lovely this time of day, least, that's what I hear. Let's go." And off they went to start their weekend with something along the lines of a bang.

Harry made it to McGonagall's office in timely fashion, as it wouldn't due to rile the professor when he needed to ask for time off on his first day of detention. She sat, bespectacled and prim, shuffling through papers on her desk. When Harry sat down she let him wait, then stood to address him formally.

"Well, Mr. Potter, as you have been ill this past week, your detentions shall consist of making up the considerable body of homework you have missed in all your classes. Further, two nights each week will be spent on Occlumency, with the hopeful side effect of bringing about some sense of self-control over your impulses. The Headmaster will be here to see you shortly as well, so I suggest you make a good start on your studies. This detention, being a Saturday, shall last three hours. On class days it will only be two. Sundays you may have off, but you may still not leave the grounds of Hogwarts or venture to Hogsmeade until I inform you otherwise. Are we understood?"

"Yes, professor, but I have one request. It's very important, I promise." Harry answered as earnestly as he could, hoping McGonagall was in a better mood than yesterday.

"Very well, I shall hear it, but do make it brief. I have several errands I must attend to shortly." Minerva McGonagall was curious as to what could possess Harry to request something of her so soon into detention.

"Draco's father is supposed to be sentenced to the Kiss soon. He asked me to go to Azkaban with him while he visits his father, I think he needs the help to get through it. I don't like Lucius, but Draco really needs me. If you'd give me permission to leave grounds for the afternoon I'd be very grateful." Harry had tried to keep his tone level, but subtlety wasn't really his strong suit. He was blushing and staring at his feet by the time he was done.

Minerva looked piercingly at the gangling young man that she'd watched grow from a pale and sickly little boy. Everything with the young was so passionate, so extreme. If she sometimes seemed hard as flint, it was to maintain order despite an instinctive urge to empathize.

Harry had seemed so quiet, so desperately sad and alone after Sirius' death. She'd feared for the boy's mental health after so much loss and pain. This 'thing' with young Malfoy may not be entirely to her liking, as it smacked of dangerous co-dependence on their parts, but she did admit that Harry seemed happy again. Who was she to spoil a minute of that?

"As you wish, Harry. That's a sound reason for absence. If I might offer a word of advice, recall that acting on blind rage and doing whatsoever pleases oneself is precisely how people such as Lucius Malfoy wound up in Azkaban in the first place. I cannot tell you how much it would disappoint many of us to see you come to such a sordid fate, Harry. The Headmaster will be by soon. Your classwork has been compiled and placed on the desk before you. I shall be back before long. Do try your best."

With that, she departed, wondering if she had been too easy on him. Traditionally, a near murder would merit expulsion, but Harry had always been an exception to almost every rule. It didn't seem right to treat him differently, but he was a remarkably sweet and earnest boy when he wasn't haring off into heroics.

Harry had been at his Advanced Charms papers for almost twenty minutes, when Albus Dumbledore strolled in quietly and took a seat beside him. He was going to apologize for his outburst the last time they'd spoken, but Albus held a hand up for silence even as Harry opened his mouth.

"Harry, there is no need for an apology, you were quite distraught that evening. I am here to speak to you about your vision, however, and your relationship with Draco as well. Harry, I know perfectly well that there was more to your vision than you admitted. You weren't well and I let it pass, but you must understand that defeating Voldemort is more important than any of our feelings. I'd like you to share it all with me. If you aren't comfortable speaking of it we could use Occlumency...if you prefer. Not merely because of the needs of war, but also because I believe that your vision has taken a toll on your personal well-being...and you should know that I will always help you in any way that I can."

Harry was silent, he'd not even told Draco the exact details of his visions ending. He'd tried hard not to think of it the last couple days. Now Dumbledore had called him on it, and he knew the old man was right. Like always.

His throat felt thick when he told Dumbledore everything, every cruel detail of that vision. The part that had sent him into convulsions had been the moment when he realized Draco was behind him on the dream fogged streets of Hogsmeade. Harry had known in the vision that he was supposed to be concentrating on Voldemort, but he was afraid of losing Draco. He hesitated, and Voldemort saw and understood in an instant what Harry's weakness was, then ruthlessly exploited it. A Slashing Spell tore open Draco's perfect neck, and the spray had been a red fountain that spattered Harry's face with tiny red drops. He'd actually smelled and tasted the coppery tang of his lover's blood when it struck him. Draco fell in a crumpled and lifeless heap and Harry's world had gone black.

When he woke, all he'd known was that someone else he loved would die horribly, because of him, because of a stupid prophecy. Like his parents, or Cedric Diggory, or most of all Sirius Black.

The first time Harry had felt like he had a family who cared about him, it had been because of Sirius. Sirius had been Harry's last link to his parents, and then Bellatrix Lestrange had cut him down before Harry had even gotten used to feeling that love. At the core of his soul, Harry was frightened of one thing more than any other. If he loved someone, they might be taken away from him, killed for a war that wasn't their fault, but Harry's.

Once he'd started, the rest poured out. The panicked outburst at the thought of Draco fighting for the Order; the loss of his sanity in the hall when Draco was threatened by others. He wept openly on Albus Dumbledore's shoulder after he'd let it all out. Harry wasn't at all ashamed, just tired of being afraid. Fear hurt, and fear of losing someone he loved hurt more than anything else ever had. 

Harry didn't notice it, buried in Dumbledore's shoulder, but the elder wizard had a tear in his eye, too. This world sometimes sickened him. The notion that children should have their innocence and happiness ripped from them, only to suffer as Harry had, utterly repulsed him.

It was hard at times to remember what he was fighting for, as the world was cruel and hard even without the likes of Tom Riddle. So much pointless death and sorrow, all for a few grasping moments of paltry power. Albus wished he could cast a spell that would solve it all and soothe away the world's hurts, but he'd long outgrown the naivete to believe in miracle cures.

All he could do was try to give Harry enough strength to keep going, and hope he could help bring the prophecy to fruition with Harry as the final victor. That was a lot to hope for, but it was the only hope the world had at the moment.


	26. Facing The Mirror Of The Soul

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 26 'Facing The Mirror Of The Soul'

 

Harry talked to Albus for what felt like all of his detention. McGonagall returned briefly and sorted through a few papers, then left the two of them to continue their discussion.

The old wizard skillfully prodded Harry to examine and accept every hidden feeling that had moved him to panic or violence, starting a process of recovery that was already overdue. It was a lot to work through, given that Harry still had a vision of death hanging over his relationship with Draco, but Albus was careful to remind Harry that visions were notoriously fickle, often shaped by the worst fears of the mind that made them. 

He also tried to start Harry on the path to accepting that some risks were unavoidable in this difficult time. There was a chance that any of them could be killed, and those who were left alive would have to continue on as best they could. It was an ugly reality, but one that had to be faced honestly and with candor. 

They laid plans for further Occlumency training with Snape and Dumbledore over the next few weeks as well. Harry could use the finer controls to master the last of that difficult art, and become a true and registered Occlumens.

They spoke of Draco, too. Albus liked much of what he heard, finding that the younger Malfoy was showing signs of becoming a thoroughly mature and skillful adult, as well as an astonishingly devoted spouse to Harry.

Albus gently cautioned against too much dependence upon each other, knowing that the boys probably wouldn't listen to or heed any such advice at this early stage, but at least he laid the groundwork for helping them find a more stable and mature perspective later. 

Albus left behind a young man feeling very much back in charge of his emotions, and McGonagall approved. Such a conversation had probably been long overdue since the death of Sirius, but school and the Order had kept them all so busy that they hadn't seen the broken and fearful side of the boy that was their instrument in the fight against Voldemort.

Minerva shook her head in amazement quietly. Trust Albus to strike right to the heart of a problem and set things on the way to right, all with so little wasted time. It wasn't the first time she had quietly thanked the heavens that the world had Albus Dumbledore in it to guide them, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Harry left McGonagall's office feeling light and good. Every step was easier for having spoken the worst of his fears aloud. He knew he still had a lot to deal with, but, Sweet Merlin, was it good to just have it out in the open. Unspoken fears had gnawed at him since long before that vision, and with some caution and a little luck, it might just be his own fears that made him see Draco die in that terrible vision. He had a foundation to cling to now, and he was building on it quickly.

He could find Draco soon, and they could Apparate to the Ministry to get permission to visit Azkaban. It was a thing permitted only to those closest to a prisoner; a small mercy given, granted only when a prisoner was facing the Kiss. It was a brutal thing; to have all hope and happiness stripped away, and even the hardest hearted Aurors never begrudged the last visits of families.

Harry had never seen Azkaban itself, but Sirius had told him of it a few times. None of it good. Lucius Malfoy may have been a thorough bastard, but what he was facing was punishment enough for crimes far worse than the ones he'd committed.

Harry found himself questioning whether there should even be such a thing as the Kiss. It seemed too cruel and bitter a way to destroy even a wizard or witch who had crossed the line into darkness and evil. It didn't really fit Harry's image of the kind of sentence that would be given by a supposedly good and just court. Still, there was nothing he could do, save to stand by Draco and be strong enough to help him cope with what was coming. Liking it just wasn't part of the deal.

Draco's morning had been fairly placid. He'd held what was now 'court' in Slytherin's common room, and settled a few disputes that had needed attention. This time he settled them all with words and traditional punishments, forced apologies, small rewards and additional chores and responsibilities. Not a single hex was involved in the entire process.

A lot of Slytherin students had expected the 'old Draco' to show when faced with questions or disobedience, and they were shocked and faintly disappointed to see a calm and reasonable Draco in control. No one complained, primarily because it was the second house meeting in a row that no one had needed Counterspells to recover from! Then he held a short conference with Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Everything was coming together faster than he'd hoped for. In a few weeks Slytherin would be hosting social events and coaching students to greater academic heights than ever in the house's history. Slytherin had seen many rising stars over the years, but never a whole class that consistently out performed others. It was ambitious, but if you were going to aim high, you might as well aim for the stars.

He parted company with his friends and headed back to meet Harry. The Ministry would be their first stop...if Harry could get out of the building, and that was nothing to look forward to, but Draco would feel better once he'd at least met his responsibilities and seen his father. Then he could spend some time showing Harry the Malfoy Manor grounds and introducing Harry to his mother. There was no way to gauge how THAT might turn out. It was worthy of concern, but Draco was determined that Harry would be a firmly established part of ALL of his life, not just the safe and easy parts.

As soon as Draco was in the door, he began to switch into his formal clothes, hoping that both the Ministry and his father might take him a little more seriously if he dressed like more than a schoolboy. After all, he was almost eighteen and due to inherit one of the largest estates in the wizarding world. It would be nice if anyone expressed even a little confidence in his ability to assume that role.

Then Harry walked into the room and Draco felt like he'd developed tunnel vision. When Harry was near him, it dominated his entire world, making everything that wasn't Harry smaller and less important. Harry looked calm and happy, too, and that was relief incarnate!

"Hey, love, I got permission, we can go as soon as you want." Harry beamed and walked right into a hug. A few minutes were shamelessly squandered on some fairly involved snogging. When they separated, Draco could almost feel the difference in Harry's mood. Something was different, and definetely for the better!

"You seem pretty chipper for a guy who just left detention. How'd it go? McGonagall cut you some slack for just wanting to protect your lover? I don't want to encourage you getting detention or anything, but you are sooo sexy when you're all protective and puffed up. Makes me wanna find ways to help you burn off all that testosterone! Mmmmmm." 

Draco curled himself close to Harry's chest and rested his head on Harry's shoulder, looking up and fluttering his eyelashes in a gesture so patently overdone that Harry broke up laughing.

"Not quite, I'm still in trouble, but Dumbledore came by and talked to me...about a lot of things. I know why I got so crazy now, and I think I'm okay. I won't let it happen again. Draco, I've lost a lot of people I cared about, and I've never been in love before. I hate the idea of anything taking you away from me or hurting you. That's why the vision triggered some bad reactions from me.

I'm not saying I'm comfortable with you being in danger, just that, now that I know what makes me so angry...I can handle it better. I'm going to finish my Occlumency training and really get control of myself. Anyhow, I'm just feeling a lot better. Let me change clothes and we'll head to the Ministry, 'right love?"

Harry grabbed his best clothes from his trunk and started laying them out, right down to his dress shoes. They were the same he'd worn the weekend of their 'honeymoon' in the Room Of Requirement. 

Draco mentally noted that while Harry was doing his detentions, he would have to slip into town and make some 'wardrobe improvements' on Harry's behalf. Even so, he loved the way Harry looked in his dress clothes; it brought back that night the week before, the one that cemented what had grown between them so quickly.

If he must visit the Ministry and the hell on earth that was Azkaban, how good to go next to a man so tall and fine and strong for all to see. Harry caught him staring dreamily and winked, then smiled broadly as he slipped on the last of his outfit. They were both licensed for Apparition and only needed to walk off Hogwarts' grounds to use the spell. As they left the castle grounds, Draco paused and took Harry's arm. 

"Harry, you can't know what this means to me." He looked up into those twin green oceans that made him only want to drown in their depths. "I'm glad you could be here for this. I wasn't kidding when I said I might really need you after it's over. It may not be long until I'm not just an heir, but the Lord of Malfoy Manor. It isn't anything I ever asked for, but something I have to do. Like your prophecy, before I was even born there was something I would have to take care of whether I wanted to or not. Ever since we got together, I've felt like I can deal with anything as long as I have you with me." Draco moved in for a hug and Harry obliged instantly, stroking his hair and holding him close.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, love. I love you, Draco. I wouldn't let you deal with this alone, even if I had to break out the Cloak and my Map to get away. I may not go crazy, but I won't stand by and see you hurt alone. Not now, not ever. I'm here for anything, love." Harry kissed Draco's cheek, then drew his wand. "Ready when you are, lover."

Draco pulled back and raised his own wand. "Let's." With that, they gathered their will as one, and Apparated to the chamber of the Ministry marked for incoming Apparitions.

They stepped out together and into the reception chamber. It was necessary to identify themselves and sign a certain amount of paperwork to go further, but as they were very recognizable figures, the process was a bit smoother than normal.

They were swiftly guided to the offices of Kingsley Shacklebolt, who would be escorting them to Azkaban via personal Portkey. Only high ranking Aurors were permitted a device that could transport to or from Azkaban's remote and unknown locale. All other forms of transport, Floo or Apparition, were heavily warded against, and dangerous to attempt in the extreme.

The prison was guarded by Auror battlemagi and Ministry guards. Anyone arriving without express permission was attacked first and questioned after the fact. Some of Azkaban's prisoners were just too dangerous, and Shacklebolt had tightened security after the past escapes had blemished Azkaban's long record of absolute containment. 

Shacklebolt was still the grim figure Harry remembered, though they hadn't met in months, and he greeted Harry with a firm handshake and serious demeanor, casting a wary eye in the direction of Draco Malfoy. "Good to see you, Harry, though I can't see why you'd be along. You should know I put no stock in the fluff the Prophet's full of, but I can see there was a grain of truth in that last article."

"Aye, sir, there is, but nothing I'm ashamed of. It's good to see you, too. I know you probably think otherwise, but we really are all in this together."

Harry knew Kingsley appreciated bluntness and honesty above all and would probably bite his tongue if it was certain that Harry implicitly trusted Draco. Anything to make this easier for his lover, since Shacklebolt had a deep mistrust of all things and persons Malfoy.

Draco put his best foot forward, already following Harry's lead if it would keep the older Auror from sniping at him. "Mr. Shacklebolt, I appreciate your taking the time to oversee this personally. I know my father hasn't long before a decision is made, I just really need to see him. My father and I differ on a lot of things, but this is a matter of duty. I'm sure you understand."

Kingsley Shacklebolt felt vaguely like a cowboy ready to fire his gun who only hears the click of empty chambers. Somehow the sneering and effete little prig he'd been expecting to shepherd about all day had failed to manifest, and sent this polite young man in his place.

"Ah...well, very well then. If you two will hold hands, and Harry, take my left, then we'll be on our way." When all three were linked, Shacklebolt pulled out a silver disc and triggered the Portkey. After several seconds of violent disorientation they burst back into reality, in a grey and ugly stone cell guarded by two wand wielding Auror battlemagi.

Their own wands were taken from them, and several spells were cast upon them in quick succession. Draco suddenly realized that his Glamour had just been erased, revealing the now faint redness on his cheek and around his eye. It had been healing fast, but it was still visible to the observant eye. Damn the luck! 

"Right lads, follow me." Shacklebolt brought them down stone halls that seemed to echo despair and murmur prayers for oblivion. They were taken to a waiting room; one door in, one door out. Shacklebolt motioned for them to be seated.

"Wait here, I'll be fetching Mr. Malfoy under guard. He'll be brought to the room on the other side of this door. When he's been secured to the chair in that room, you may enter it, Draco. Harry, I trust you'll remain right here with me until they're finished talking." The door he pointed to had a single small window in it, just enough to observe the goings on in the other room. "There will be no limit on time today, but I also trust you won't keep us waiting too terribly long. I have many responsibilities, and this is not one I'm fond of, but do as you must, lad." 

The grizzled older Auror stepped through the door, then stepped through another in the back of the visitors' chamber. Minutes ticked by interminably. Draco was getting edgier despite having kept his best 'game face' on. Harry could feel the tension growing with every second, but knew that if he touched Draco now it might prompt a sudden breakdown. He would wait until he was certain Draco wanted his support, and he knew Draco would ask when he needed it.

After some ten minutes, which crawled as slow as days, the door in the other room opened and Kingsley and another Auror entered with a chained Lucius between them.

Draco let a faint gasp out. His father looked shabbier than ever before. Not beaten or harmed, just scruffy, bitter and hollow. His cheeks had sunken more and his eyes seemed duller. Even his father's once confident stride seemed less sure than ever. It was scarcely the same man, save for the anger and malice that burned in the cloud grey eyes that had spawned Draco's own. 

The Aurors chained Lucius to one of the chairs in that barren room, then each stepped out through one of the doors, Kingsley to their room, the other to guard the hall beyond. Shacklebolt nodded grimly to Draco.

"Go on in, lad. He's secure." Then stepped off to the side. Draco took a deep breath, looked Harry in the eye, drank in the compassion and love he saw there, then went to face the man that brought him into the world.


	27. A Season In Hell

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 27 'A Season In Hell'

Draco stepped into the chilly stone room where his father sat, chained and unarmed. When he saw the sickening glint in his father's eye, he couldn't help thinking of a shark; restless and eternally hungry, only swimming to its next kill, never at peace, never innocent. Draco sat in the room's other chair, only a few feet from his father, silent and ashen faced.

Lucius took the lead as always, smiling widely. "How very good of you to come, Draco. Always the dutiful son. No, wait...as I recall now, you never were much for duty. Providing heirs, serving our rightful lord, making yourself useful in even one meaningful way...yes that's right...I believe all of that was completely beyond you. How fortunate for me that at least once you managed to get something right. I should be beside myself with pride, shouldn't I?" His father's voice dripped acid and venom. He'd clearly saved weeks of bile just for such a moment.

Draco tried to rally. "Father, please...there isn't much..." Lucius broke him off almost immediately.

"Time? Is that it, Draco? Not much time? I'm afraid that's all I seem to have right now. I haven't a title, or lands, or even an HEIR worthy of the name! I appear to have nothing left but a little time. You have it aplenty, though. I labored a lifetime to make ours a name of power and you...you ungrateful little catamite, you are what is left! How do you spend your time, my son? Poring over your studies, working for a cause larger than your own pleasure? I think not...I expect you still squander it, offering yourself up as a rutting cushion to every ignorant Squib that crosses your path. What a source of pride you are! My only child and heir, a well-used repository for the seed of strangers."

"It isn't like that, Father...I...I don't...I wouldn't...I have someone."

"Oh, how charming." Lucius' eyes bored into him. "Well, I can only assume he understands all too well how to treat you. That bruise across your cheek suggests a man who, at last, is well suited to give you what you so richly deserve. Any other Malfoy might have left a trail of dead bodies for such an offense. You lack even the dignity of a whore, Draco. There isn't even profit for you in the matter."

Draco was cracking faster than he'd thought he would. He placed his head into his hands to hide the tears that were daring to form. "Father, I'm begging you, just let us..."

"Get out. Out of my sight, you pathetic and snivelling little slut! I thank the gods that you are a hopeless sodomite, for it would grieve me far, far worse to think that this...this wreckage I spawned would continue our lineage. Better the Malfoy name be utterly extinguished, than be carried forward by such a weakling. I may have no legal power here, but I will always know that I was the last of the Malfoys. I have no true heir! Take your comfort from the fists of your lovers, at least they can briefly stomach your presence." Lucius hissed the last in tone as cold as ice.

Draco crumpled to his knees with a sob. Lucius looked ready to vomit with disgust. Draco tried to reach for his father's knee, blinded by tears. "Don't," he croaked helplessly. "Don't be like this, please, I love you."

"The very sight of you sickens me. Love? What do you know of love except the grunts and thrusts of those you grant your favors to? You haven't the right to even use the word, you appalling little slattern! I rot here for you, and you have the nerve to cite love in my presence. I could have made us kings of the world of men, but I was surrounded by weak-willed and soft creatures. You stink of your mother's thin blood and soft ways. I should have smothered you in your sleep and had done with that insipid, sentimental tart before you both ruined me!" The pleasure he took from dispensing this torment was evident in the brightness of Lucius' eyes.

Draco fled the room in tears, unable to hear another word without doing himself harm. He was blind and fumbling to open the door when Lucius' last words struck him.

"Yesss. Run away like you always have, from duty, from honor, from pride and dignity. Run like the cowardly little trollop you are and always will be! Just don't insult me with your presence again!"

Kingsley closed the door behind Draco when he ran into Harry's arms and buried himself in Harry's chest. Harry held Draco close to him and whispered soothing words, even while his own heart was full of outrage.

Kingsley looked to Harry for a sign as to whether Lucius and Draco were done or not, and Harry nodded no. He had business of his own with Lucius Malfoy. Harry sat Draco in one of the waiting room chairs and turned to head through the door himself.

Draco looked aghast. "Harry! No! Please! It's over, let him be. Nothing...nothing ever does any good. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. I won't be long, love." Then Harry walked in to the room where Lucius sat, oh so smug and pleased with his handiwork.

Lucius drew instant conclusions on seeing Harry and immediately went ballistic. "YOU! YOU INSOLENT LITTLE..." Harry's sudden slap across Lucius' face brought a sudden and deathly silence to the room. Lucius' face blackened like a thundercloud. "Why I'll..."

"YOU'LL WHAT? I'm not the child you get to frighten, Lucius. Are you proud of yourself? This close to the Kiss and all you can manage to do is attack the people who love you in spite of yourself! YOU'RE FUCKING PATHETIC! You know why you're here! How can you not? You gambled your family and fortune on following after a deranged, egomaniacal, murderous bastard...that COULDN'T EVEN MANAGE TO KILL ME WHEN I WAS AN INFANT! YOU'RE THE IDIOT HERE! YOU HAD EVERYTHING AND YOU FUCKED IT ALL UP ANYWAY! For what? To scare a few more people, or tell a few more what they can do? Was that worth this? Even if you'd won, you'd still have been nothing but a toady to a maniac!"

Lucius was growling and grinding his teeth, dangerously close to insanity. "If I were free..."

"IF YOU WERE FREE, I'D BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH MY BARE HANDS, YOU MISERABLE BASTARD! The only reason you get off with just a slap is for being here! How dare you treat your only child that way! Draco is the smartest, most gifted, most passionate and decent person I've ever known...and you're not proud of him because he isn't out murdering women and children in the night? YOU'RE INSANE! I actually wondered if the Kiss was too harsh for you! I was wrong! It's too easy!

Congratulations, Lucius! You made yourself the Dark Lord's BITCH, and your own people left you out to hang so they could save their hides! Is that the noble, honorable way you were hoping your son would act? One more conniving, cowardly, murdering prat who hides behind a damn mask? I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but your son is a better man than you will EVER be, and I will love him until the day I die. 

There's a reason your self-titled lord is in hiding, and it's because his time is up as soon as he gets within wand range of me. Go to your grave cursing and spitting! When it's over, this will be Draco's and my world!" 

Harry turned and stormed out while Lucius was incoherent with rage and shock, spluttering furiously on retorts he couldn't quite make before the door slammed shut.

Harry turned to Kingsley and said, "Now he's done... throw him back in his hole and leave him there." Kingsley just nodded grimly, looking a little envious of Harry's impromptu speech in the visiting room. He'd been hating Malfoys longer than both boys had been in school and never managed to put it quite so succinctly. A frothing and ranting Lucius was escorted away a minute later, and Harry and Draco were alone for a bit.

Draco still hadn't fully recovered; whole sentences were out of the question yet, but he could slip occasional words loose. He thanked Harry, no longer crying, but still clinging to Harry's waist and burrowing into his neck.

The intoxicating closeness of his lover made the pain go away. Maybe not entirely, but enough that he could function. Draco still felt numb; the horror of that brief time with his father still looming large in his mind. 

Kingsley returned and led them back to the departure point, Portkey in hand. A minute later Azkaban was behind them and the Ministry offices were a busy, well lit change of pace that offered relief from the gray misery of the prison.

They took some time in the Ministry office's bathroom to refresh their appearance and drop a few Cleaning Spells. Harry's chest and collar were soaked by Draco's tears, and both boys were red eyed and flushed from stress and grief.

In the crisp whiteness of the empty office toilet, Draco finally had the strength to speak clearly again. He gave a Harry a long hug, this time tearlessly.

"Thank you so much, Harry. I can't believe you said those things! And to Lucius! Merlin! I've never seen anyone out yell him before. Not that it'll change him. He's been like that since his arrest and I know I can't change him now. I'm just glad you were there. As soon as we're out of here, let's visit my mum. Then I can show you the manor's gardens. They're marvelous, Harry. You'll love them! I know it's not authorized by McGonagall, but we can take just a couple more hours for us!"

"Sure, love. I really do want to see the manor. 'Specially the gardens. Mostly I just want to see if your mum has embarrassing pictures of you as a baby!" Harry was chuckling at the thought when Draco swatted his ass.

"I'm fairly sure that violates some Ministry clause! They have one for everything else, so I'm assuming it's illegal...if it isn't...it ought to be! No baby pictures and that's final!"

"As you wish, love, but it may be a long time, and you're never going to be able to leave your mother and me alone in the room until after I've seen them at least once." Draco turned pink with frustration!

Feeling better for the bantering on the way out of the building, the boys made their way to the outbound Apparition point and prepared themselves for the journey to the edge of the Malfoy wards. From there, Draco would have to lead Harry in on foot.

The wards placed around the Manor were strong and potentially dangerous to intruders, and no simple spell would penetrate them. Perhaps not as secure as Azkaban, but awfully close by civilian standards.

The wave of two wands and a few uttered words and the matter was closed. Draco and Harry stood before the magnificent wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor. With a majestic sweep of his hand, Draco commanded the gates to open, revealing a landscape carved in heaven.

A long and winding path meandered its way to the sprawling palace that was the Malfoy home. Along that path were nearly endless gardens that teemed with acres of rare and unusual plants, as well as animals that were selected for their compatability with the environment and their attractiveness. If God had owned a summer cottage, it would probably have looked a lot like this.

Harry was dumbstruck with awe, just standing on the hill overlooking it all, scarcely able to speak.

"Be it ever so humble...eh? Lap it up, Harry. This is no cupboard under the stairs, and what's mine is yours!" quipped Draco. Then Harry tackled him, pulling him down the grassy hill and rolling down with Draco in his arms, laughing like a banshee all the while.


	28. On The Ropes

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 28 'On The Ropes'

 

Draco and Harry careened their way to the bottom of the hill, covered in grass and laughing like children. Draco spat out a small tuft of grass and leaned over to Harry, climbing astride him and then contentedly laying on his chest.

He could hear Harry's heartbeat, strong and even, and feel the rise and fall of Harry's chest as he breathed. This was the warmth and closeness those early dreams had teased him with. Everything he had endured was for this. This was paradise. Harry's hands were in his hair, stroking and caressing Draco in that gentle way that spoke of awe and respect. 

"Draco, this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I can't believe you grew up here. Did you mean what you said just a minute ago? You know everything I have is yours, too, right?" Harry's voice hinted at how awed he was by the enormity of the manor and its grounds.

"Really, Harry. Like I'd hold out on you. I wanted you to see this because I knew you'd like it. I hoped maybe you'd get a look and think about living here with me after we graduate. I still want to see the world with you, but until the war is over...this would be nice, wouldn't it?" Draco traced his finger delicately under the collar of Harry's shirt.

"This would be perfect. Not that I didn't want to find a place of our own, that would have been nice, too, but I think this place is what I used to think heaven would be when I was little. C'mon...I wanna see more before we see your mum." 

Harry rolled over quickly and pinned Draco underneath him. Harry kissed him along the line of the jaw, stopping to give the tiniest of bites to his throat as he worked his way to Draco's lips. 

Then he jumped up suddenly and shouted, "If you want any more you're gonna hafta catch me first!" Harry darted off down the lawns. Draco leapt to his feet and ran after, zig-zagging through the hedges and jumping over the bordered beds, until at last, breathless, he cornered Harry around an impressive and old piece of statuary.

"Have a heart, love," Draco panted, hanging onto the edge of the statue while he caught his breath. "It's been an awful day 'til we got here. I've still got to clean up before I see my mum, and now I'm all sweaty and completely knackered. Lots of help you are." Harry came directly to him with a look a look of concern furrowing his brow.

"I'm sorry, love. I just got over excited. Didn't mean to...OOOF!". As soon as Harry was in range, Draco tackled him solidly, sending them both to the ground.

"There. You're caught!" Draco laughed triumphantly, "To the victor goes the spoils!" Despite Harry's muffled attempts to cry foul, soft lips eventually drowned any hint of protest.

The scent of earth, grass and flowers was all about them, and the wind was just a faint zephyr that tousled hair every so often. The only sounds were those of insects and small animals, and the rustling of a few leaves. Here there was no tension or conflict, no desperate urge to relieve themselves of the day's tension, here there was peace.

They had no need to go any farther, the moment was too pure, too pristine to be sullied with lust. They kissed and curled and kissed again; lost in a world of two made one, innocents in a garden, this time too enraptured in each other to reach for any forbidden fruit. 

The consequence, of course, was their complete failure to notice the wind slowly picking up, or the heavy, grey clouds massing overhead. Only when a sudden shower began to drench them both did they peel themselves apart and begin running for the front doors of the manor, both cursing the fickleness of nature as they ran. It had still been a long way to the manor doors, and by the time they clambered into the entryway they were thoroughly soaked.

Draco already had his wand out and was casting Drying Spells one on top of another. Harry got into the spirit, and started using the few Cleaning Charms he knew well to remove the mess they had made of themselves rolling about in the grass.

The house-elf that arrived an instant later inquired after their needs, and Draco requested a late lunch be brought to the sitting room for them. Harry was amazed when, a minute later, they walked into the sitting room to find a feast waiting for them. No simple fare here; everything in front of him looked like food he had only seen on the telly at the Dursleys.

Most of it couldn't even be named by Harry, he just had no experience with gourmet food, and the table settings and silverware choices arrayed before him were as intimidating as hell. Mostly, he just watched what Draco did and tried to follow suit. Within minutes, he ceased to care and reverted to near barbarism, since everything on the table was delicious beyond his wildest dreams.

Draco informed Harry that his mother always needed time to prepare herself for visitors these days, and that they could relax a little and take their time. The subtle implication that Harry should slow his eating pace a bit was not missed in the slightest, and Harry found a pace that allowed him just a little more opportunity to chew, instead of inhaling the food like a living vacuum.

The way his lover appreciated so many simple things struck Draco suddenly. He had taken for granted the trappings of wealth and comfortable privilege. When he watched Harry nearly swoon with every bite, he almost felt guilty for being so comfortable all his life...while Harry had starved in a cupboard.

Harry's ebullient love of the outdoors and wide spaces was born of his childhood captivity and privation. Likewise his excitement over presents, both simple and costly. When Draco tried to look at the world through Harry's eyes, everything seemed new and wonderful for the first time since he himself was a small child.

Draco's musings were suddenly interrupted by the Apparition of an apologetic house-elf, informing him of his mother's wish to remain in bed and receive her son and his guest there. This was a major blow to Draco's enthusiasm.

He adored his mother, and she had never refused to entertain company in less than full style before today. Harry caught the look of worry that crossed Draco's face, cleaned the last morsels from his plate and made use of his napkin. 

"Would you rather see your mother alone? It's okay if you want...there's so much to see you could send me on a tour with a house-elf for a guide and I'd be busy for the whole day." 

Harry sounded sincere, and Draco was tempted, if only to reduce the tension he felt about his mother taking company still abed. Still, he really wanted Harry to meet Narcissa Malfoy. He hoped his mother would find some common interests with Harry and feel comfortable. His mother had always loved the gardens as much as Harry did. It would more than make up for the disaster with his father earlier.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she means you're welcome, she's just been very tired these last few months. Some time with company is exactly what she needs. Let's go, the house-elves will clean up all this." 

Trying to look as happy and confident as he could, Draco stood and led Harry through a maze of halls and stairs. Harry gawked the entire way. Magnificent portraits in ornate frames, objects d'art on small stands, even the floor stones were costly and polished to a shine that reflected like mirror. 

Everything here represented the accomplishments of a family of means dating back nearly a thousand years. Tapestries worth hundreds of Galleons, candelabra and wall sconces of burnished gold, even the damn rugs were of the kind that only graced the feet of royalty. All this and more Harry saw as he followed Draco through the Manor.

Harry pointed to one painting in particular. "Draco, I think I've seen that one before, in a museum...are you sure this one is real?"

"Oh...heh...that...well, Mum liked the one in the museum so much that father had it stolen and replaced with a forgery. This is the real one. Don't look so shocked, it happens more than you'd think. He offered to buy it, they said no. If you think Lucius was ugly today, you should see what he's like when someone tells him no!" 

Draco had never considered the notion that Harry might disapprove of a few of his family's questionable, but non-political, acts. It was kind of embarrassing, now that he gave thought to some his family's conduct over the centuries. The Malfoys had cultivated their power by means that were often shrouded in secrecy, but the way they wielded that power had sometimes been childish and outright criminal. His train of thought was derailed by the arrival of the door to his mother's suite, a house-elf already waiting to usher them in.

They entered into the grand bedroom suite that belonged to Narcissa Malfoy to find soft chairs made ready for them beside the bed. The room was lit well by large windows and a few enchanted lamps, and was decorated subtly in dark blue, black and occasional very dark green items.

In the midst of an enormous canopied bed lay Narcissa, a pale blond flower in a tranquil and unruffled sea of blue. Narcissa was a young woman, not yet even forty years of age, and though she had held her looks handsomely, she seemed terribly frail and almost translucent. High cheekbones, that were once a source of such pride, now only made obvious the darkness under her eyes and the wan pallor of her face. Harry'd had no idea what to expect, but he guessed from Draco's soft gasp of surprise that his mother had not looked this way the last time he'd seen her.

Her voice, though, was calm and clear, if a trifle soft. "Ah, Draco, my son. It's so very good to see you, please sit down...and offer a seat to your friend."

Draco cleared his throat nervously. "I'm just glad I could I could get away to see you. Mother, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward to receive Narcissa's hand and quickly bowed and kissed the back of her hand. She looked pleasantly surprised and smiled sincerely.

"The Harry Potter? It truly is a pleasure. I'm so terribly sorry I couldn't meet you in the drawing room proper. I get so tired these days, and it's just a poor day for me, I'm afraid. You have my sincerest apologies."

"Please just call me Harry, ma'am. I should tell you that it doesn't matter what room I met you in, this is still the most beautiful home I've ever seen, and you are still a very gracious hostess."

Harry was really putting his best foot forward. He was terribly uncomfortable with the sudden realization that this majestic and dignified woman almost certainly must know what he was up to with her only son.

"What an astonishingly polite boy you are, Harry. Obviously my son has finally developed a taste for something more worthwhile than informal trysts. I know he would never introduce me to any acquaintance of his unless it was a matter of great seriousness to him."

Draco was flushing pure scarlet and trying to melt into his chair. Most amusing was that Narcissa knew it and winked conspiratorially to Harry. She was deliberately taunting Draco!

"Mother! Please! That's so...so..." Draco was out of glib remarks, and his mother jumped in to fill in the blanks with a kind of mischievous glint in her eyes that could just as easily have matched the one Draco so often had.

"So what, sweety? So scandalous? Draco, my darling child, you cannot imagine how long I've waited for you to put aside your father's foolishness and find a real friend. I've hated seeing you alone for so long. You're still young, but you're almost a grown man. It's long past time you found someone worthy of you...and you certainly seem to have...hasn't he, Harry?" She seemed to be becoming more animated and cheerful as the conversation continued, smiling to Harry and arching an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Harry was seated and wiping his palms on his slacks. This was not how he had imagined Narcissa at all. Perhaps blunt sincerity would be the best approach.

"Well, I know it's very sudden, but I can't imagine wanting to be with anyone else. Your son is the most wonderful person I've ever known. I'm just glad I found him, after all, for a long time we really didn't get on well."

"I believe I recall that. You know, when Draco was twelve, your name was on his lips almost every minute of every day all summer long, usually followed by language I had to insist he not use in my presence." 

Narcissa's sly glance caught the sight of Draco looking like he needed to flee the room at any second. She looked back to Harry. "How fortunate that he put aside the rivalries of childhood. I rather suspected his irritable fascination with you was borne of something other than pure hatred."

"I wasn't really any better than he was about it. Some of the things I used to say about him I'll never repeat in polite company. I'm just sorry we didn't come to our senses sooner."

Harry was really beginning to enjoy this! He'd never seen Draco 'on the ropes' of social agony before! Narcissa was probably the most entertaining adult he'd ever met! Harry couldn't resist taking a good shot at Draco now.

"Speaking of the past, Draco desperately wanted me to ask after old family photo albums. He insisted I take at least a little time to acquaint myself with some his childhood here." 

Draco's eyes glinted panic and irony-laden bitterness. He stood, thoroughly flushed, and managed to squeak out an excuse to visit the bathroom. As soon as he left, Narcissa leaned forward with some difficulty. Harry leaned closer out of consideration.

"Harry, my son is everything to me. My first impression is that you care for each other very much. I know you wouldn't be here now if he didn't hold you dearer to him than anyone else. Please be good to him and patient with him. Draco has endured so much of his father's bitterness that I feared he would he never let himself be happy. I only ask that you be gentle with my only child, even when he is stubborn or foolish. I know you're a good boy just by the look of you. You will do this for me, won't you?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said haltingly, still reeling from this sudden dropping of all pretense. "I didn't want to say anything disrespectful in front of you, but I love Draco very much. I know some of the things that your husband has said to Draco lately...and he was just wrong. You'd be so proud of the things he's doing at school right now, and I'm proud just to be beside him. I promise I'll look after him. I won't let you down." 

Narcissa patted his hand and leaned back to rest. "I'm sure you won't, Harry. Lucius wasn't always like this, you know. There was a time when he cared passionately about so many things...and he adored Draco more than power or wealth or influence. I know it's hard to see for you, but when I think of him, I always remember the man I married." She chuckled quietly. "That reminds me, I shall have the house-elves prepare the family albums for viewing the next time you come. I do so love making Draco squirm. He tries so hard to be proper that he robs himself of any sense of fun. Just like his father at times. Don't ever let him stop laughing, Harry. I wasn't paying attention and something wrong crept into Lucius before I knew it." Suddenly she seemed quiet and pensive, full of unspoken regrets.

Draco stepped back into the room, looking vaguely ill, and made his way to his seat. "I'm so glad you and Harry are getting on alright. My apologies for my absence, Mother."

Narcissa smiled that wicked playful smile again. "Oh, Draco, we're getting on just fine. We were just discussing plans for your next visit. I think tea and biscuits in the drawing room would be nice, especially with all the old family albums out for viewing, don't you agree?"

Draco suddenly thought of Pandora's Box...once opened there was no closing it; the evil was out and he'd started it, and there was nothing left to do but ride it out. He looked at Harry with a silent plea for mercy, then launched back into conversation with his mother and the man he loved.


	29. Drowning In You

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 29 'Drowning In You'

 

Narcissa Malfoy enjoyed herself thoroughly, but quickly exhausted herself, becoming sluggish and tired before an hour had passed. Draco and Harry wished her well and padded quietly from the room, allowing Narcissa to drift back to sleep in peace. 

As the boys walked quietly through the manor's long halls, Harry was beaming with happy relief that his first visit with Narcissa had gone so well. Draco looked ecstatic, and fairly glowed with contentment.

Harry still didn't have a solid idea where in the manor he was, so he simply followed blindly, holding Draco's hand. He was fairly sure they weren't headed for the entryway, but he stemmed his curiosity, trusting Draco to show the way. They came to a door at the end of a hall. Draco opened it just a little, and looked back with a grin.

"No one has seen my bedroom since I was about nine years old. A few years later, when I wasn't bitter and ranting about the evils of Harry Potter, I was lazing about in here all day, wishing I had a boyfriend here with me. You're not the only whose wishes come true, Harry." 

"Bloody hell," Harry half whispered.

Draco's suite was a study in teenage luxury. There were racks of music and an amazing sound system. Shelves and shelves of books and a closet that looked like a small circus could do back flips in it. It was filled with clothes all the way to the back, and to its right was a full bathroom with a huge mirror and long counters with hygiene and styling products covering every surface. The bed was larger than any Harry had ever seen, and it looked soft enough to sink a foot into. Lastly, the covers on it must have cost more than most people earned in a year. Harry was awestruck.

Draco dragged him the rest of the way in and closed the door behind them. He pulled Harry right to the edge of the bed, still smiling wickedly, and sat down. Then, with a sudden yank, he pulled a surprised Harry on top of him, leaving the dark haired boy spluttering (despite fully expecting a move like this). Any outrage Harry might have felt was stifled by the soft kisses that followed. Harry managed to slide an arm under Draco's waist and rolled them sideways, still tangled in a kiss that didn't stop.

Draco finally whispered into his ear. "This bed has waited my entire life to be 'christened', so thank you for being here. You told off my father and charmed my mother...this day could have been right awful, you made it so much better. I love you, Harry. Nobody else could ever do these things the way you do. You really are the best man I've ever known. Thank you so much for being with me."

Harry blushed just a little. "My pleasure, love. There isn't anywhere I wanna be that doesn't have you in it. I used to be so afraid of being alone my whole life. I don't think I ever felt truly happy...until the day we got together. I just didn't know it because I've never felt like this before. I'm not afraid anymore, love. If I've got you to live for...I can do anything I have to. Voldemort, Death Eaters, detention, hell, even Snape isn't seeming that scary these days. It's all you, Draco. You make everything in my life better and brighter than ever, and I love you for it. I'll always love you." Harry trailed off, nothing more to be said, and just let their kisses melt into one another's. 

They weren't conscious of their clothing peeling away; they simply removed obstacles that blocked their way to each other's skin. There was no urgency to it, just resolve and comfort. At last, they were naked in a bed that threatened to pull them into its vast softness, curled around each other and sliding like snakes.

Draco reached for the nightstand before they even reached what could be termed 'classic' foreplay. It had been some time, and he was feeling thoroughly horny by now. His patience had reached its end, and though Harry likely would have cosseted and teased him as long as he wanted...well, he had needs right now!

Harry stood up on his knees, eyes clenched shut in an effort of self control, while Draco slicked his aching erection right and well. That soft hand manipulated him so skillfully that it was all he could do to restrain himself from coming immediately. After all, Harry had been waiting for some time, too...and few forces are as demanding as gravity or a seventeen year old boy's libido.

Draco dropped the bottle to the floor and turned face down, shoving thick pillows under his stomach to make himself comfortably angled for Harry (not to mention comfortable for the ride he was about to get). 

Harry was kissing the small of his back, nudging the head of his slippery and eager manhood softly against Draco's waiting and hungry entrance. It was just as slow a process as usual, with the now familiar pressure and cautious shifting of Draco's muscles to make himself more accessible.

Harry was always patient and sure, never in a rush to please himself instead of his lover. In minutes, they were settled: Harry across Draco's back and happily biting and kissing that perfect neck and throat, Draco face down, wonderfully conscious of every perfect inch that was buried in him, loving the feel of Harry's tiny bites across his neck, throat and shoulders.

Harry was making slow, gentle movements with his hips that Draco responded to in kind, pushing back hard against each push Harry made into him. 

Before long, Draco was blind to the world, eyes closed and body shuddering, aflame from within of an ecstasy that had no peer. Those hands touched him softly in so many right places, lips and teeth were teasing him constantly, all as they rocked against each other with a slowly increasing fervor.

A Quidditch calloused hand was at his hip, pulling him into every stroke, as the pace increased a little more again. A tension was mounting in him, soft and fluttering at first, insistent and disorienting a minute later. Draco felt that most curious of orgasms strike him just as suddenly as it had that time in the shower...just a sudden twisting of the world that stole his breath and made his mind reel. His skin burned hot and cool, tingling while his body shook involuntarily.

He hadn't 'come' as he'd always known the word to mean, but it would be crazy not to call the pleasure that thrummed through him anything but an orgasm. The best part was that he still had the capacity to continue, unlike the occasional finality of the other kind.

Harry was aware of Draco's pleasure, but hadn't yet come close to his own peak, and paused only a moment in pace as he felt the change in Draco's body language. Then, as Draco whispered feverish approval and displayed hunger for more, he started in again, working his way slowly and surely to a pace that would bring him satisfaction of his own.

Harry moved in rhythms that almost hypnotized him, steady and sure, allowing his mind to drift on waves of pleasure while he slid in and out of his lover's soft and pliant body. He never allowed himself more than a few seconds of thought about Draco's silken body beneath him: the flawless continuity of that pale and perfect skin, the soft play of muscles just beneath that amazing surface, the sensual lines of his neck and throat. Too many such thoughts would leave him coming before they even started.

Only as his pace quickened did he stop the roaming of his hands...by holding both of Draco's hips firmly and pulling his lover's body closer to his every thrust. Given his size, Harry was gentle by most people's standards. He knew that harm could come of acting too roughly, but when he was in Draco, he was always sure he'd be told if he pushed to fast or too hard. 

He felt no tension from Draco; heard no complaints as he sped up, holding those lush hips tightly. Only moans, soft and throaty, occasional pants, and nearly husky squeals of delight, mixed with dashes of the laughter of joy and relief, reached his ears. He felt safe pushing the edge a little, driving just a little harder and deeper than he ever had. 

Harry's efforts were rewarded by the sudden change in the cries and moans beneath him, all speaking a language of desire made wild and almost animal in its dangerous hunger. Soon all that could be heard were their cries and the slick slaps their bodies made as they crashed into one another.

Harry had felt the beautiful body beneath him tremble and shake with tiny explosions several times before he neared the end of his control. Thrusting savagely and dripping with sweat from exertion, he finally uttered a guttural cry of his own and felt himself release the pent up tide within him into Draco.

His pace slowed and staggered, fumbling and unsure while he came, Harry gasped for breath and then draped himself his lover's back, still twitching as the final bursts of his orgasm jetted into Draco's lean and thoroughly sated body.

He kissed the back of Draco's neck, moving to that soft place behind the ear, the one that always made Draco melt, and he felt, rather than heard, the purr of contentment that Draco began to make. He rolled them onto their sides to give Draco a little more comfort, never allowing himself to withdraw fully from Draco's tight and delicious arse.

Draco reached his left hand back to stroke Harry's mussed hair, but his right hand moved to his own aching erection. Slowly writhing against Harry's still considerable, but slowly waning, member, he jerked himself off with scarcely an effort, already having hung upon the edge of release for most of the previous hour.

In a minute, he was clenched around Harry tightly, spurting onto the sheets beneath him, uttering a whimper of sublime of exhaustion while tears rolled down his cheeks. They lay in the aftermath, still joined even in repletion, breathing softly and deeply and caressing one another as their energy returned. 

Harry gently withdrew himself from Draco's body, staring in wonder as he watched that wonderfully tight entrance, which somehow perfectly accommodated him, slowly close. That a body so slender and fine could take this kind of punishment, and crave it again and again, amazed him completely.

Disengaged, they were able to lie back and rest easy, Draco curled in the crook of Harry's arm and stroking the chest of his love with fingers that uttered a wordless adoration.

Draco nuzzled his cheek and spoke hoarsely, "In here, you really are the first. This is my place; no one has ever been here but you. Harry...I've never trusted any one this much before. Not like this...not like you. I want this forever. Especially what you just did to me, do you realize I come 'inside' sometimes when you make love to me?"

"Is that what that was? I felt it before and then again just now, but you didn't, you know, 'come' in a way I could see. It just felt like one. I wondered about that, but I just didn't want to ask anything...well, impolite or crude. That's weird...but cool. Is it as good as the other way?" Harry's curiosity peaked.

Draco thought a moment. "Not really better or worse, just different. Only you ever made this happen. I thought about it for a while and I think...I think it's because I love you so much. I let go of everything and let you take me as you please...because I trust you this way. When I relax just right, it happens, and I've only ever felt that safe with you. Harry, even my body knows I love you." Little tears of joy were misting in the corners of Draco's eyes. Harry leaned in and kissed him soundly.

"We have to go soon or I'll be later getting back than I can reasonably explain. I just want you to know that, even with the way this day started, it's been one of the best days of my life. We need to come here again...soon. I like it here. It feels so peaceful and calm, and I need that more than I can say. Plus this room is so nice. It's like I'm drowning in your scent. I can feel you everywhere and I love it. I love you, Draco, I can't seem to say it enough lately, but it's just good to say it. There's nothing about you I don't love."

A weird look of urgency crossed Draco's face. "Even my occasional need to flee for the bathroom after sex? 'Cause I hafta...now," he squeaked before rolling off the bed and limping exhaustedly toward the bathroom.

Harry cracked up, giggling uncontrollably, and called out to the closed door, "Yes! Even that, too! I love it all! No exceptions, baby!" 

Draco sauntered out of the bathroom with an air of contentment and a sashay that was enough to make Harry growl hungrily when he watched those hips sway casually toward him. "Hey, you're the one who might be late, lover boy. Let's get our clothes back on and clean up here...if you want more, you can wait 'til we're back in our room and that's that." 

Unfortunately, Draco followed his taunts with a deliberately sensual display of his ass while reaching for his briefs and trousers. What followed may well have begun as non-consensual...but only for about three seconds. Then the howls of protest ceased and were slowly replaced by howls of another kind entirely. 

Maybe there'd be hell to pay for Harry when they got back, but right now it was Harry extracting payment from Draco in spades, and neither thought of clocks or time for a good while yet to come.


	30. Heaven On Earth

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 30 'Heaven On Earth'

Two slightly bedraggled and dizzy boys returned to Hogwarts several hours later than expected. Blessedly, Professor McGonagall rarely stalked the halls these days, and it wasn't actually past any properly set curfew.

They made it to their suite with only a few hellos from fellow students en route to Hogsmeade. They settled in and changed out of their dress clothes, pausing only to slake the seemingly unquenchable lust of Harry's libido one last time.

Draco was glassy-eyed and mellow all evening, but sadly unable to concentrate on even his simplest homework. His legs had gone rubbery before they'd even left the manor, and this last round was vigorous enough to steal the last of his energy for the day.

Harry stayed up just a bit later, sorting through his homework and trying to speed the process of catching up as much as possible.

Strangely, this time, it was Harry who was wonderfully energized by their love-making. He felt like a marathon runner reaching his peak high. At this point, he was actually restraining himself until tomorrow out of respect for the tired, cute and thoroughly shagged out little blonde that was already asleep next to him. 

Sunday would be a good day; off all day, just homework to catch up on...maybe some time to visit with friends, but mostly...mostly just Draco with him all day and within reach.

He felt just a little wicked and demanding, out of place for Harry, but this was sex!...with his boyfriend! He wanted it, and the last week had been so crazy, that they hadn't had much chance, but now he had a day in front of him that offered up a perfect opportunity to catch up on more than homework...and he wasn't wasting it! Harry finally drifted to bed with visions of orgiastic Sunday adventures floating through his half-conscious mind. 

When Sunday morning came, they made the most of it. No starving urgency or wild pouncing, just the langourous melding of vaguely sleep-muddled bodies finding their way slowly but surely into each other. It was a soft and sensual start to an exceptionally good day.

Draco lounged in the shower afterwards, thoroughly scrubbing himself clean of the last day's activities and mulling over his good fortune. He was getting a taste of paradise to come. Harry was in good spirits, and horny as a satyr of legend. Draco had been intoxicated by sex since the night before, and each aftermath had grown increasingly savage and all consuming, only to be followed by another even more passionate round of intercourse.

After this morning's wake up, he was dangerously giddy. Dangerous only because he felt a need to display a little decorum in public, and that might not be possible while singing love songs at the top of his lungs.

He was very visibly aglow with happiness. He and Harry had urgently needed some time like this and yesterday. So much difficulty and worry, only to have it all fade away and give them a chance at peace. Draco let out a soft sigh when he scrubbed the tender place between his legs. It was almost too much...just too much to be real.

Today had only started and Harry had already read Draco's mood and done everything just so right. Now there was a twinkle in Draco's eye that couldn't have been extinguished with a firehose! He was almost giggling to himself with pleasure when Harry popped into the shower beside him.

"Sorry, love, I just couldn't wait any longer. Thinking of you in here, naked, wet, steamy...alone." 

Harry immediately went to work on Draco's neck and that was the ruin of him right there. When Harry gently nipped just below his ear Draco felt himself melt inside. A hunger that should have been impossible to sustain flared to life in his belly, and he couldn't hold in the moan of desire that escaped him. Then they were at it again, only slightly less gently than the time before, after all...Harry wasn't a COMPLETE animal. Draco had come once already that morning, and despite only showing a modest erection he 'came' the 'other way' twice in the shower before Harry reached his climactic peak and unleashed another brief flood into Draco's voluptuous warmth.

Draco felt magnificent; reborn, albeit slightly dizzy, but mostly he felt wanted, needed and desired. This was a food for his soul that he'd starved for all his life. It made him feel even more beautiful than he quite rightly knew he was. 

A slightly frightening happiness had seeped into every pore of him that made him want to hug the world one person at a time and share his happiness with them. It was alien and discomforting, but he really didn't care. This was heaven on earth; feeling like this...satiated in every way, always aware of his lover's restless need for him, adored and caressed...utterly content.

He'd been so very wrong weeks ago. Any price was worth this. Any trials and any pains or losses along the way were nothing compared to the dizzying heights of pleasure that made up his days with Harry.

Sunday was a sensual feast for the both of them, followed by appearing together in the great hall for lunch, parting only briefly to make contact with friends and drop invitations to their suite for that night.

Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Pansy all promised to make it over for a first 'experimental' Slytherin/Gryffindor gathering over supper. In the late afternoon they visited a few places on the grounds of Hogwarts together, idly chatting and holding hands, before Draco left for Hogsmeade to shop for a few needed things. All thoughts of Lucius and the Kiss, or of Voldemort's scheming, had been laid to rest in the face of a very good day.

Harry returned to their rooms early to study, and Draco enjoyed his time in Hogsmeade thoroughly. He found Gladrags as helpful as always, quickly providing him with some wardrobe changes that reflected his rapidly improving mood, as well as some other clothing that just might make Harry look stunning. 

These were not the cast off rags of Harry's childhood, these were the things of fashion magazines and uptown stores that most students never saw, but stores like Gladrags and Madame Malkins had a unique private stock for customers like Draco, and he took the fullest advantage of that. He'd have Harry dressing like royalty before he was done.

That body urgently needed to be displayed in clothes that flattered it properly. Then there were chocolates and small gifts for Slytherins who excelled in the new programs that would soon be starting. There were also party favors he was purchasing for Pansy's well-planned gatherings. Finally, he indulged himself in purchasing a few Muggle items, music and magazines he enjoyed.

He'd have been burdened with packages, but for the blessing of Shrinking Charms. As it was, he strolled from Hogsmeade with a single bag weighing only a few ounces. He left without incident, but Slytherin instincts made him aware of something just a hint out of order.

He noticed a few people about the streets, hard eyed, forceful, watchful people. Then he remembered Harry's vision. These people didn't have the look of Death Eaters, but of guardians. Aurors, lots of them, all dressed casually and mingling with the townsfolk, but all sharp-eyed and ready. This brought back the ugly reality of the war, a barbed reminder of what Harry had seen in his vision.

What if he really was going to die? He'd just been down the streets Harry had seen him killed on. How long until something happened? The war couldn't remain on hold forever.

This line of thought had to stop...it was much too fine a day to waste it by being afraid. There would be a time for serious thoughts...this was not it. Draco returned to the castle with only a little of his giddy cheerfulness dimmed, and mentally vowed to have Harry fix that after their company left this evening.

The supper was a complete success in every way. Despite a lot of differences, everyone came to the table in their room (which Draco had enlarged with careful use of a Growth Charm) ready to get along with former rivals.

As there was no lingering bad blood between the lot of them, it was an easy time, enjoyed by all. Granger had chipped in thoughts on the mentoring program, much to Blaise's delight, and Ron actually preened and blushed while Pansy shamelessly poked fun at him without resorting to a single hurtful subject. Every gentle mockery was tied to a kind word that made the humor go down well. Pansy and Hermione rolled their eyes in mutual feigned disgust at the way Harry and Draco fawned all over each other, and Ron and Blaise had managed to kill half the evening discussing Quidditch strategy.

Thanks to Harry's faithful fans among the house-elves, there was food aplenty and treats along with dessert, so no one left hungry or angry, and, for a mix of Slytherins and Gryffindors, that stood as rare indeed.

Draco and Harry returned their suite to its original state with happy dispatch, still aglow from the good energy of company and dinner. Then Draco began the lengthy process of unpacking his purchases and introducing Harry to his new wardrobe. 

The irony of Draco's concept of Harry looking sexy in colors that seemed to gravitate toward Slytherin's green and black was not lost on Harry. Of course, when Draco pouted and expressed concern that Harry didn't want to look good even for him, well, that put a stop to the ribbing. After all, it wasn't like everything he'd gotten Harry had those colors...just the most expensive and impressive items. However, he had indulged in getting Harry flannel boxers (Harry really couldn't fit comfortably in any other kind of undergarment) in Gryffindor colors, complete with a lion rampant stitched down each side. 

The purchases Draco had made for himself were somewhat more risque. Things that made Harry's eyes widen and occasionally made his mouth water. Still favoring Draco's inclination toward black and green, but so very little of it, considering that the undergarments he'd purchased were very nearly scraps of expensive cloth that merely implied that covering anything was purest pretense on the wearer's part.

The way these things would look on Draco threatened mayhem in Harry's mind. Not that he hadn't been well sated the last night and day, but he felt a sudden twitch in his lap as he imagined these, and only these, things on his lover's body. 

When all was put away or stored for future use, they lounged in bed quietly, just comfortable in the knowledge of each other's closeness, going over little plans for the week to come.

The lights were out when they curled into bed, not desperate to be in each other's arms as before, but utterly at peace with themselves and the little home they'd made for themselves in Hogwarts.

This was a union of spirits, not the simple joining of bodies, and every touch between them was a secret and silent language of awe and wonder. Neither broke the spell of adoration and love that hung over them, siphoning away the petty cruelties of the world. Instead, they made a gentle revelry of all that was to be cherished between them, and, when they met slumber at last, it was without regret or fear of days to come.

Their week was a happy blur, unmarred by war or troubles. Small gatherings with friends, classes that flowed smoothly, plans that unfolded as hoped...and even quiet and simple detentions for Harry.

He managed to catch up all that he had missed in the panicked days of previous weeks, and still had time to make gains in his practice of Occlumency. With Dumbledore's skillful coaching, Harry made quick leaps forward in his deft use of Occlumency, and though Snape taught him on Thursdays instead of Dumbledore, even that went passing well.

Snape was still possessed of a droll wit that frequently targeted Harry, but at least the looks of loathing and menace had dimmed. Even Draco's phasing in of the mentoring program moved forward without incident.

In a couple of weeks they would be the guests of honor at Pansy's first Slytherin hosted bash, and that promised to be a party of epic proportions. Best of all, McGonagall had taken note of Harry's earnest labor at his studies, calm demeanor, and general sense of well being. She decreed his detentions would last for only one more week, now for only one hour each night, though he was still barred from going into town.

Harry's well being and Draco's were more intertwined than Minerva McGonagall quite realized. Their energy and good humor that week were largely fueled by antics that would have made rabbits look like celibate monks! No part of their suite remained 'unchristened' (including the desk) and they had long since moved on to exploring as many of Hogwarts 'quiet' places as possible, up to and including several of the larger closets.

If they seemed a bit fresh faced and cheerful that week, it was largely due the fact that, on any given day, there were rarely six hours in a row that didn't see them ravaging one another with joyous abandon. Far from exhausting themselves, they discovered just how much more comfortable they got with each passing day, expanding their familiarity with each other's desires.

Harry was a fast learner in a lot of ways...at least with an adept teacher, and there could have been no better or more enthusiastic teacher than Draco, and no student more raptly attentive than Harry. 

Saturday morning came faster than they could have imagined, and breakfast found them dining with their classmates. Owl post arrived, and Draco and Harry both received letters. Most of their mail that week had been from fans or friends who'd read of their union, and either expressed outrage or open admiration, but these were different.

Draco silently pocketed it after looking at the address. His family solicitor could only be sending this letter for one reason. Final judgement regarding his father had been rendered.

As for Harry, his was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were equally disappointed that he hadn't seen fit to share his budding relationship with his family. There were vague hints cautioning him about the heartbreak of teenage excesses, but a general tone of approval and happiness that he was finally seeing someone steadily...even if that someone happened to a Malfoy. 

Harry didn't push Draco about his letter, he knew by the look on Draco's face what it must mean. When Draco was ready, Harry would hear about it, then they'd have to make some decisions.

Harry wouldn't have blamed Draco if he refused to appear, even though tradition dictated that his presence was required, but this was Draco's choice; whatever his lover chose, Harry would back him a hundred percent and be there no matter the consequences.

Harry's body language said all this even as Draco looked at him with a silent plea for patience, and it soothed him to see his partner's look of resolve and ready comfort waiting for him. As soon as Harry got back after his detention, he'd open it, and then and they could deal with whatever came of it.


	31. Clothes Make The Man

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 31 'Clothes Make The Man'

 

Draco sat nervously in his chair at his and Harry's table, fidgeting every few seconds. The letter lay in the center of the table, taunting him in silence. Harry would be here soon and he could see what kind of final madness would be inflicted on him by his father's status.

Only one of two possibilities could have come to pass. Either Lucius would spend life in Azkaban without parole, or he would be sentenced to the Kiss soon. Given Dumbledore's less than optimistic appraisal of things, it seemed unlikely that Lucius would live out another month.

The Kiss would sap from him everything that moved him and drove him to live and endure. Without hope, memories of happiness, or even a sense of the possibility for reprieve, he would slowly wither away, dying finally as a shell of the man he was.

Thank Merlin that Harry was there for him. Draco knew what he'd most likely have to do. Attend his father's execution as the eldest child and heir is required to do in such a case.

Noblesse oblige, my sweet ass! Lucius had been a bastard to him for so many years, but in spite of it all Draco was still very much the little boy who chattered questions in the gardens of home, utterly entranced by the tall and magical man that was his father. That part of Lucius would never really die for him. Even the events of the last weekend could never change that.

Harry entered quietly and walked straight to Draco's side, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. Harry took Draco's hand and looked through his eyes and straight into his soul. Draco let himself float like flotsam in those oceans of green, then gave Harry a mournful kiss hello.

"Ready, love? It's going to be okay no matter what...understand?" Harry ran his hand across that downy cheek and pushed back a small lick of out of place hair.

"Yeah, it's time." Draco removed the seal from the envelope and drew the short letter from it quickly. He scanned it in seconds and set it back on the table quietly. "Wednesday. He gets the Kiss on Wednesday." Cold silence hung over them for almost a minute.

Harry took Draco's hand again and this time pulled him into a soft hug. "I'll be there if you want. At least it will be over soon."

Draco didn't cry, he just sighed softly into his lover's chest. He had no tears left, not even for Lucius. He hurt, but it was a hurt he was prepared for, and not a sudden and stinging slap to his heart, like Lucius' last words to him had been.

He wrapped his arms around Harry and just soaked up the nearness of his lover, surrounding himself with the scent and feel of Harry. Like a blanket around him against the cold of reality, Harry kept him warm in the face of inclement emotional weather, and that was more than enough.

Draco had meetings to make in Slytherin in an hour, and Harry had only a modest stack of homework. After a few kisses they split for the while, knowing they'd be together again at lunch.

Draco reached the Slytherin dorms with his calm intact, the bitter knowledge of what was coming carefully stowed away so he could function. At least what greeted him in the common room was cause for a little happiness. 

One of the larger couches was completely occupied by a single couple in perfect repose. Blaise and Pansy were in the middle of a semi-public snogfest! Draco bit back a string of sarcastic comments that welled up unbidden, then walked fully into view and coughed politely.

Blaise and Pansy lazily separated and favored him with amused expressions. Blaise spoke up first while Pansy's eyes flickered merrily.

"Really, Draco...given that you and Harry have to be separated with cattle prods and fire hoses it's hard to believe you acting miffed over Pansy and I enjoying each other's company. This whole 'working together' stuff has some interesting side effects. Pansy and I have been talking all week and you might as well know we're actually going to break down and call it dating from here on in."

"I'm not miffed. First...I'm a Malfoy, we don't do 'miffed'. We're either content or leaving a trail of bodies in our wake! Since there are no bodies in my wake, I must be content...and that's all there is to it!" Draco's smile was full of wry amusement.

Pansy lolled about, getting her head comfortable in Blaise's lap, then looked up to Draco, "OOOO...I hear a big fib in there! You have more than two gears...the third is giddy queen and we all know who drives you into that gear!" She cracked herself up and started giggling into Blaise's pant leg.

Blaise looked like he was a volcano holding in an explosion of molten laughter. Draco turned a bright pink right to his ears...then he grabbed a pillow. Things descended downhill from there, as they weren't even restrained enough to keep it amongst themselves. In less than half an hour every pillow in the common room was laid waste to, and over a dozen panting casualties lay chuckling and guffawing around the room. 

Eventually they got some actual business done, but the weirdly cheerful energy that was borne of a simple pillow fight seemed to linger about the room. Slytherin really was starting to change. It was slow and horribly awkward, but something very akin to trust was forming among some of the other students. Friendships that ran deeper than mere convenience were beginning to bud like spring flowers after a long hard winter.

Draco reflected on his handiwork and thought, 'This...this thing that I have done is truly good.' A little glow of pride filled him. Not the blind and arrogant pride of the past, but a soft and deeply fulfilling knowledge that he had made people happier and healthier. If hours of lectures and paperwork were what it took to feel this way, well so be it. 

Harry finished his modest stack of homework and ditched his robes. It was Saturday and he was done with detention and homework. His boyfriend had just been dealt some bad news, and Harry wanted to make his day a little brighter.

He opened his trunk and sorted through the new clothes Draco had bought him. From this he selected just a few items. Dress shoes that shone like a well polished black car, black socks that were of a quality he had never before known, tailored black slacks that just seemed to fit like no others ever had, a sleek black belt with silver filigree about its ends, and last...a skin tight black turtleneck. It wasn't really a sweater, almost more like a stocking than anything else. It just slid over his arms and chest and seemed to melt onto him.

When he looked in the mirror in the bathroom Harry was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't really noticed before but in these clothes he was FINE! He needed one last touch though. Product! The messy tangle of his hair had to go. It took a bit of fumbling, but one of Draco's gels was just right for slicking his hair back close to his scalp while leaving him a little body. 

Feeling dark, sexy and just a little bit sheepish about his sudden vanity, Harry started toward lunch. Wait 'til Draco saw this!

Ron and Hermione were lounging just outside the dining hall catching a brief snog before they entered that highly public room. Their embrace was interrupted when a tall and darkly handsome figure turned the corner and was approaching from the far end of the hall.

"Huh...who's 'at, 'Mione? Don't think I've seem him about before." Ron queried. 

Hermione stared hard at the fast approaching young man, then her mouth gaped open, eyes wide, jaw slack...utterly speechless. It was something of a first for her. She got her tongue under control just as Ron was beginning to figure it out. "Sweet Merlin, Ron...that's our Harry!!! Harry! Look at you! I thought you were a Muggle model!"

"Blimey! What's with the get up, mate? Photo shoot on the Riviera in an hour or what? Not sayin' it's bad, just...well, bloody different!" Ron was curious as hell. This didn't look like the Harry of the last six years at all.

"You guys like? Draco got them for me. He had a tough day today. His dad got sentenced to the Kiss. I thought I'd cheer him up a bit. You know, let him see his handiwork an all." Harry posed a bit, not skillfully or campily, but at least he tried to look suave while he showed off the new look.

Hermione uttered a low growl that was very, very out of place coming from her. "Harry, if this doesn't put a smile on Draco's face it means he's dead or under Imperius! Oooo...speak of the devil...don't turn around yet...here he comes."

Draco was coming up the hall from behind Harry and could only make out the figures of Ron and Hermione talking to a tall dark clad stranger. Hermione kept cueing Harry to hold steady until the right moment. "Not yet...just a sec...almost...NOW!" 

Harry turned to face Draco just as he was about to say hello to Ron and Hermione. The look on Draco's face was priceless. Shock...awe...raw and naked lust. His mouth opened...then closed...then opened again and closed one last time.

Draco attempted to speak and only a strangled squeak emerged. He began to blush furiously while Harry just smiled wide and basked in his normally glib boyfriend's silence. Then sharp clarity and resolve filled Draco's gaze. Without a word, he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him back down the hall away from the lunchroom. Harry went along with it and just waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron as he was unceremoniously pulled down the hall. 

"Draco...where are we going, love?" Harry asked plaintively.

"Sex...sex now...need sex now!" Draco answered in curt, choppy near monosyllables.

"So...you think you like this look?" Harry smirked.

"No thinking! Not thinking time! 'Specially you! Your blood is needed elsewhere!" Draco was regaining his vocabulary with every step. "You...look...fucking...incredible." They came to the door of a classroom that was generally only used in the morning. Draco yanked him through it and slammed it behind them. Then he almost jumped into Harry's arms and smothered him with kisses. Harry leaned back against the wall, letting Draco's legs wrap around his waist and just concentrated on keeping Draco well kissed and comfortably held.

Draco was insatiable at that moment, the sight of Harry looking so bloody perfect had tipped his mind completely over the edge. Their clothes never really made it all the way off; they just barely managed to fumble Harry's fly open between kisses.

Still held in Harry's arms with one arm around his lover's neck and his legs around that strong waist, Draco managed to reach a hand beneath him to unzip those slacks and slip his hand into Harry's now bulging boxers. He freed that magnificent organ from its prison of cloth and savored the sensation of its velvet soft warmth in his hand. Harry let a soft moan escape between frantic kisses. Then Harry kissed back hard and started to walk toward the desk near them. 

With a caution that was admirable under the circumstances, he slowly laid Draco back on the desk and started fumbling with Draco's robes and slacks, and as soon as he got them down enough to get a good look, his erection jerked with excitement when he saw the tight black thong Draco was wearing. The front was little more than a patch of material that only barely contained Draco's weeping stiffness, the back was no more than a string and left nothing to the imagination.

Harry looked just a second longer at the beautiful pink rosebud that was completely un-hidden by that black string...then a crazy hunger he'd never felt before struck him. On a whim, he sat in the chair at the desk and tilted a confused Draco's legs higher, exposing his ass handsomely on the side of the desk. Then Harry ran his tongue along the outer edge of Draco's groin in slow circles, pausing to give tiny, delicate bites along the inner thigh. Draco made a sound almost akin to a sob while his body tensed. Harry was emboldened and slipped his tongue further into the valley of silken flesh that lay between the pale cheeks of his boyfriend's unbearably sexy ass.

With effort, Harry curled his tongue around that black string and pulled it to the left, then pinned it under his thumb, clearing the way to his ultimate goal. Hesitant and yet ravenous, he just brushed the tip of his tongue against that pink whorl. Draco's shuddering hiss and suddenly flexed muscles told him everything he needed to know. He started to just lightly daub his tongue in different spots, quite randomly, but always somewhere along the edge of that twitching and puckered little rose.

Draco shook and raved and wept from these attentions. His hands were clenching the side of the desk with whitened knuckles and his own body was violently demanding satisfaction that Harry just wouldn't give yet. That tongue drove deeper and Draco almost involuntarily found himself pushing to allow it further purchase. When that soft, pink and so generous sponge of flesh finally laved an inner band of muscles, he cried out and started to beg through the tears.

"Harry! PLEEEASE! FortheloveofMerlin! Ahhhh...just FUCK ME!!!! I LOVE YOU! I need you! NOW!" 

That devil tongue moved away and Harry stood slowly, licking his palm and reaching down to soak his own quivering and pre-come drenched head with his spit. Without a word he placed himself flush against Draco's achingly hungry bottom and pressed slowly closer.

Draco was nearly crazed with lust and pushed out and back as hard as he could. His neck strained and his back arched on the desk; his teeth were clenched and his eyes were clamped shut as he fed his body the fullness it craved so madly. Despite the lack of proper lubricant, Harry made it halfway in without discomfort, and that was all he really needed. 

Draco's legs were over Harry's head, shoes still on, trousers draped across Harry's back. From this position, thanks to the height of the desk, Harry had a perfect angle to work from. Still clothed save for his open fly and fully engorged erection, Harry began short, hard upward thrusts that drove right to Draco's prostate without fail. In minutes, the weeping and twitching bulge still lodged in Draco's thong burst, and darkened the cloth with jets of moisture. Harry had only started.

He held his pace until the body beneath him was a shuddering ruin; until tears of delirium ran down Draco's cheeks, until at last hearing those ecstasy driven cries, and feeling the sudden clenching around his own member that declared yet another orgasm for his partner, he let himself go...and with a few slow and satisfied final thrusts, he spilled the whole of his urgency into the miracle soft warmth of his lover's body.

Harry gently withdrew for Draco's limp and dazed body, then slid his freshly slaked manhood back into his boxers and zipped his pants. He lowered Draco's legs, which then dangled off the desk edge lazily, and stepped around to the side of the desk to look into his lover's glazed and grateful eyes. Draco was silent and breathing shallowly, pupils just tiny pinpricks.

Harry had seen this before and didn't worry. It would take a few minutes, so he busied himself casting a few Cleaning Charms to clear the mess he'd caused his lover to make in that wonderful thong. Then he started slipping Draco's trousers back into place. He'd just gotten them zipped when Draco finally looked directly at him with a weak but heartfelt smile.

Harry couldn't help himself. "So...you're saying you DO like the new outfit on me then, right?", he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Instead of the hexing such temerity should have merited, all Draco could manage in the way of comebacks was a slightly squeaky, "Um-hmm." Then he laid his head back on the desk and giggled while Harry leaned in kiss him.


	32. The Phoenix Rises

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 32 'The Phoenix Rises'

Draco and Harry barely made it back to the Great Hall for lunch, and even that was spent mainly on Draco giddily showing off Harry in the new outfit to every one he knew. Although the consensus was that Harry looked dead sexy and Draco was the luckiest bastard on the face of the planet, it was also fairly obvious that Draco had just been shagged half witless. Many of the compliments passed that day were carrying an undertone of severe jealousy. A few rumors even suggested that Draco was slowly turning Harry to the side of Dark Wizardry, but at least no one took those seriously. 

The boys bolted down a lunch as quickly as possible and made their way back to their sanctum. They found a house-elf delivered missive from Dumbledore waiting for them when they arrived. Harry flipped it open and read it, frowning a little at the timing. Draco waited patiently until Harry finally spoke.

"The Order is meeting, tonight. We'll both have to go into the dungeons, this meeting is here in Hogwarts. The letter didn't say much, but Dumbledore has news about the war and we'll all need to hear it. Looks like tonight you get to meet the gang, or at least those who don't have duties elsewhere."

"I'll assume you know where we're going, Harry, and that reminds me...last week in Hogsmeade I saw an awful lot of Aurors on the streets, even in plain clothes they still stand out. It's coming isn't it...soon...the Dark Lord will try something soon, won't he?" 

Draco was worried by a lot of things about this. The risk to himself and Harry, the danger of the school itself being attacked, the threat of preemptive strike...for instance as revenge against 'traitors' who wouldn't follow their father and wound up literally sleeping with the 'enemy'. If he were caught, Draco would be in more danger of prolonged torture than death. Death Eaters carried hard grudges!

Harry hung his head down quietly. He felt a hundred years old for a moment. "Yeah...I'll be ready though. I have a lot more to fight for now." Harry raised his head and looked into the soft grey of his lover's worried eyes. "Draco, don't worry over it. Even the Prophecy hints at me destroying Voldemort, it may not be ironclad, but there's a lot going for our side that you may not have known about before, maybe tonight you'll get a good look at what Voldemort is up against. I hope you'll feel better when you realize how many people have an axe to grind with the self-titled Dark Lord. You're one of us so I can tell a few things right off. There are a lot of very powerful wizards and witches backing us, some scattered all over the world, but most right here, and some of Voldemort's servants aren't as 'loyal' as he'd like to think. Plus Dumbledore has a few tricks up his sleeve yet. I really think we'll win this, I just want you to feel that, too."

Draco made up his mind in that instant. Fear was how Voldemort gained his power...and he was never giving that bastard another iota of power again. He swore an oath to himself at that moment that there would be no looking back or fear to taint his time with Harry, whether they lived or not every minute would be a memory of them united as one and unafraid. "I believe it, Harry. Really. In fact, I think Voldy hasn't the faintest bloody clue how many new shapes your going to kick his ass into! I know I'm not the cheerleader type but I believe in you, Harry. Absolutely and completely."

Harry looked relieved, "Thanks, love, I mean it. You know I hate to think of you worrying. Mmmm...one thing though," Draco looked up waiting for Harry's question...,"are you sure you couldn't be the cheerleader type? I mean a little skirt and a sweater would look really cute on you soo...". That's when the pillow hit Harry in the face. Then it was on. In the aftermath of their fluffy and soft warfare they lay panting and giggling. Draco bragged of coming out victorious in two pillow fights in one day, and explained his crushing defeat of all comers in the Slytherin throw down that morning. Harry lapped up the sound of a his lover's happy voice in silence, smiling all the while. At the moment, nothing could spoil their peace and comfort. Behind these walls they were as free as two people could ever be in this world and they squeezed the most from the opportunities they had. 

They studied together, Draco helping Harry with Potions and Harry helping Draco with Charms. The classwork expected of them was slowly increasing as the year had progressed, as was normal for seventh year students approaching their final exams, and at least with Harry and Draco their mutual strengths and weaknesses were ideally matched. Each was invaluable to the other when it came to their studies. Studying, however, did not exhaust all their time. The game of 'footsie' beneath the table slowly grew out of control until finally Draco slipped beneath the table and out of sight. Harry wasn't at all surprised by the soft tug at his zipper a second later and simply parted his legs to clear the way for his lover. It was Draco's game and he played along without complaint. Not that soft hands pulling him free of imprisoning boxers and warm, wet lips starting a gentle lapping suction would EVER have elicited complaint from Harry! What did catch him off guard was the sudden tight warmth of Draco's throat sliding almost all of Harry's erection down it. Amazing! Harry reeled under the waves of pleasure that came of this special attention. He slid back a little in his chair, jaw slack and eyes closed, just enjoying the depths of sensation. 

A gentle hand slid up his boxers and traced along his inner thigh. Questing and restless fingers found their way to Harry's balls and cupped them gently, a knuckle brushing against the muscles just below there. Harry gasped and breathed deep again, trying to hold out a little longer and get the most from this, but when the hand withdrew and a spit slicked finger slithered it's way to his already straining groin Harry let loose a sigh of naked lust. That finger was working it's magic, massaging gently and teasing skillfully, opening him and searching after a place Harry knew well would tip him quickly over the edge. Draco felt Harry relax enough for the final step...and curled that skillful finger just so, gently rubbing that oh so magical spot while his mouth labored over the head of Harry's cock. If his mouth hadn't been so busy...or so full...Draco would have smiled in satisfaction when Harry's legs began to clench and shake. When the moment came he was ready, every drop that crossed his tongue was quickly swallowed to make way for the next thick spurt. Harry grunted and clenched around Draco's still working finger. Draco drained his boyfriend of every drop he could offer, merciless to the last, pulling away only when Harry's softening member had nothing left to give and Harry himself lay draped back across his chair smiling ear to ear.

That took the edge off the tension and kept them focused until supper. They dined at their table in the Great Hall and watched the staff closely. No one could ever have told who among them stood with the Order without actually belonging to it themselves. Dumbledore was obvious, but Draco never saw a sign that any other other members of the staff held a secret of that magnitude. The realization that many people were gathering under the banner of Harry Potter surprised and pleased him. If he hadn't seen the signs of strong organized opposition to Voldemort it was very possible that even Voldemort himself was ignorant of how many were arrayed against him. Supper passed, and shortly after Draco and Harry donned the Invisibility Cloak and set off on the way to the dungeons. Thanks to Harry's Map they avoided Filch by a wide margin and entered the lower dungeons without difficulty.

Harry let Draco provide slight illumination from his wand, while Harry led the way to the long abandoned rooms used by the Order. Mad Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt were guarding the entrance until all arrived and greeted Harry warmly, though Mad Eye, however well informed of Draco's recent oath, still scowled and stared intently at the blonde. The name Malfoy would be hard to overcome amongst Aurors, and it would simply take a little more time. At least Shacklebolt had the grace to offer condolences on Lucius' fate, even though he didn't actually feel any reget for Lucius himself. 

Draco and Harry entered the crowded room and looked upon the crowd. Dumbledore and McGonagall were in the center, surrounded by a knot of Weasleys and a string of Aurors. Draco made out familiar faces from Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and many other parts of the Wizarding community. Many eyes fell on him with distaste, but a narrow majority seemed to only look at him speculatively, as if to say "Show us you're worthy." It was a dare Draco would take any day. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger entered the room just after them and joined the throng, and then finally Severus Snape walked in, his usual scowl firmly in place. That one caught Draco by surprise. He gaped a moment until Snape turned that scowl on him, then he closed his mouth and returned to paying attention to Harry's hand, which he was holding just a bit tighter than was really necessary.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked up to them looking cheerful but pensive. Mr. Weasley started off by chatting Harry up about his grades and such, then made a polite segue to asking for a formal introduction to Harry's friend. It was pure pretense, as they knew full well who Draco was, but old Wizarding manners weren't dead at the Weasleys, just stowed away and brought out for company now and again. Draco was flattered and followed the old etiquette for introduction between old houses. The compliment he offered was honest and sincere, essentially a repeat of what he had said weeks before. Molly nearly blushed when being profoundly thanked by a Malfoy, and just for looking after Harry a bit. Her compliment to Draco in kind was perhaps a bit flustered and stilted, but made it clear that she felt that Harry knew best, and that if Draco was Harry's 'friend' then Draco was welcome among the Weasleys as well. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, was outgoing and downright cheerful about meeting Draco Malfoy at a gathering of the Order and offered high praise to Draco for having the courage to join. All in all it wasn't a bad start, even Fred and George were fairly easygoing to Draco, but still made a few wisecracks out of adult earshot that made Harry and Draco blush crimson. 

Fred was smirking wickedly, "Look Georgie, wee Malfoy's made of tougher stuff than any of us thought! He's Harry's boyfriend AND he's not in a wheelchair or limping!"

"Why bless my socks! I believe you're right! Either he knows a good Shrinking Charm for Harry or a great Stretching Charm for 'imself." George and Fred burst into barely concealed snickers and Draco was on the edge of his comeback when Dumbledore called everyone to attention and began to speak.

"I know that there has been little visible activity by Death Eaters of late, but let me assure you all that there is much we should be concerned with. A number of high profile wizards long suspected of alliance with The Dark Lord have taken leave of their estates. Their whereabouts are as yet unknown. My own recent travels have revealed Death eater activity in Wizarding communities around the globe. I have prepared our allies as best I could and will remain in contact with them as often as I can, but I believe our enemy will strike in many places at the same time, possibly within the next few months or sooner. Such a plan smacks very much of his arrogance and sense of grandeur. For our part I have recovered certain texts from the estates of Nicholas Flamel that suggest a possibility even The Dark Lord may not be prepared for, this I shall speak of later with you, Harry." Harry nodded solemnly and gave Draco's hand a small squeeze for comfort.

Dumbledore continued. "For the safety of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade I have requested a large contingent of Aurors be placed on duty at all hours. They will be remaining in street clothes to avoid easy notice and will not act unless an attack actually comes. There may be 'false' attacks elsewhere but I believe these will be no more than feints to bluff our forces away from the castle. The Dark Lord knows full well that unless he reaches Harry his efforts are for naught. Whatever he does, as long as Harry is here, he must center his attack here or in Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall and Mr. Moody will take over the training of our modest Army while I prepare Harry for some unique magical training. Bill and Charlie Weasley and Hagrid will be training our 'irregulars' on the edge of the Forbidden forest over the next few weeks. The rest shall return to your families and jobs and maintain your cover. I have set several of you to the task of making devices that communicate to others that an attack has come. These shall be distributed throughout our allies when the time comes. A series of portkeys to specific areas and the establishment of 'safe' apparition points will be established shortly after, so that we might muster our full strength for a counter attack within minutes. Although I fear for our students safety, this war endangers us all equally. Unless there is sound reason to suspect an attack, visits to Hogsmeade shall still be permitted, but will be restricted to Saturday and Sunday only, and then only for sixth and seventh year students from now until I decide otherwise. That is all that requires discussion now, our next gathering will be one week from today, at this location."

Albus' stern sounding voice paused a moment and then he spoke in a lighter tone, eyes twinkling faintly. "Before we depart I should like to introduce our newest member before anyone thinks me remiss. You may have already noticed that Draco, soon to be Lord Malfoy, is among us tonight and shall be with us from now on. I encourage you all to welcome him with open arms, as I believe quite completely in his fidelity and personal courage. Whatever suspicions may have lingered in your minds you may put aside, as I assure you he would not be here tonight if I did not trust him implicitly. I thank you all, and do be most cautious until we meet again."

With that the meeting disbanded as some left quickly and others broke into small clusters. Ron and Hermione joined Harry and Draco as the crowd thinned. Hermione looked excited. "Unique magical training? Harry, did he tell you anything yet? I'd love to know what kind of spell he's got in mind."

Ron seemed chipper, he always felt a little better around the Order...since a good number of it's founders were his family. "It's gotta be something really good! Something the Dark Prat won't even see coming! Be perfect if he came up cackling and all smarmy an' just got his clock cleaned by the first spell off your lips! Maybe not as funny as you finishing him off with wine an candles, but still good by me!" Draco looked confused by the last comment, and when the jokes they'd cracked before were shared by them he hissed in mock anger.

"Out of the question! I'm not sharing this with anyone, not even to save the world. Harry will NOT be the Order's gigolo as long as I have any say in it!"

"Relax, love," Harry whispered, rubbing Draco's shoulders and placing a single soft kiss on his neck, "I can't imagine even wanting someone else. You've gone and ruined me, I don't even think I could look at another person and keep a straight face."

Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder, "Dumbledore's on his way over. Let's see what's up."

All faces turned expectantly to Albus Dumbledore. "You may all stay a moment, what I have to say is not restricted to Harry's ears alone. The texts I mentioned earlier are quite old, just copies of copies, really. They regarded a particular grimiore written long ago, lost to us for centuries. In the papers of Flamel's estate I came upon records that confirmed the book's existence and implied that at least one attempt was made to copy it. It took some research but I believe both books are here in England. It took considerable time and effort to follow the sales between estates and the inventories that took place when old houses passed to new hands, but I have tracked the remaining copies as closely as I could. I suspect that Voldemort possesses the incomplete translation that belonged to a family allied with him. The other copy, Mr. Malfoy, was purchased by your grandfather.

You and Harry will be granted permission to leave Hogwarts Wednesday, although for reasons I regret. When your duty as heir is done, I ask that you visit your estate as the new Lord and order an immediate and complete inventory of all books. I seem to recall the Malfoy library holds many rare and precious texts, and if you have a full list of them I shall review them and see if the complete copy is there. Be mindful of the title...'The Grimiore Of Legernorm the Wise'. Should you come upon it, bring it to me immediately, otherwise just bring me the inventory list and I shall check it myself.

Once we have the full grimiore I can begin training Harry immediately. All I can tell you now is that the spells contained therein are exceptionally difficult but involve the channeling and control of raw magical energy from the very world around you. If Harry masters this kind of magic he may well be able to strip Voldemort of the power to cast spells.

I must go now, I shall return on Wednesday afternoon, but for now I have many visits to make to our more distant allies. Harry, your lesson for Tuesday shall be with Professor Snape instead of myself. Do your best and I know that I shall be glad to see you again in a few days." 

With that Dumbledore clapped Harry on the shoulders while Harry nodded earnestly, smiled with twinkling eyes on last time and left. The cluster of teens spoke quietly for a few minutes, mulling over the news, then split apart and headed back to their quarters for the night. Draco knew his confidence hadn't been misplaced. The Order had plans that the Dark Lord couldn't easily foresee, and Harry was about to learn some serious old magic if he could just get the right book.

When they reached their room they chatted cheerfully of the week to come, it might be marred by Lucius' fate, but there was hope for the future and they held to that hope with all their hearts.


	33. Dog Day Evening

Author's Note: I am a lucky bastard! This chapter has been Beta'd, which great patience (given my minimal competence with commas), by the one and only Constant Vigilance: The Cerberus of Beta Land, guarding the gates that lead to the Hell Of Sloppy Editing. Thank You!

 

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 33 'Dog Day Evening'

Sunday brought mail to both boys. From Remus Lupin, on duty for the Order and unable to make an appearance in person, Harry received congratulations on the Prophet's continuing stories of his 'fairy-tale' romance with the heir of the Malfoys.

Draco received several letters of condolence from old houses that had known the Malfoys well, and a letter from his mother, which was much longer than usual and informed him of her inability to appear with him Wednesday.

The tone of the letter was a little better than the last ones he'd received over the past half year, and she had made certain to ask after Harry's well-being and thank him for the lovely visit. She further insisted that he please come again as soon as they could. They each dutifully wrote out their responses, and had them owled out before evening came.

It was largely a day of rest and study for them, but Draco had several final details to attend to in Slytherin. Monday, his new plans for Slytherin would go into effect, and there were tiny wrinkles and occasional obstinate students to be dealt with.

Out of respect for Harry's detention status, a small gathering was held by the seventh years so that Harry wouldn't be left out of the social life entirely. Draco and Harry were the star couple of the gathering and enjoyed themselves thoroughly.

Even Ron got on passingly well with Gregory Goyle, once the inevitable Quidditch discussion got underway. Seamus slipped a bottle of Firewhiskey into the mix, but Draco and Harry passed on it, each smiling sheepishly. The week would be long enough without a hangover dogging their heels at the start of it. 

They did consume just enough smuggled Butterbeer to get comfortable, and when they returned to their suite, they were giggling and kissing their way through the halls. They made love tenderly and eagerly, forgetting the hard days to come for just a few glorious hours in the night. 

When Monday dawned, the week got underway in an orderly and business like manner: a wicked morning shag, a joint shower that led to a swift mutual wank, a quick hallway snog before classes, and then heaps of homework before they could meet for a hasty snog during lunch. All in all, not a bad day.

The only interruption was a fist fight that broke out between a pair of overtaxed Slytherin fourth years, stemming from a dispute over bragging rights. A few house points were stripped, but Draco's real touch of brilliance was the punishment. The miscreants were cleaning the first year dorm bathrooms with nothing but toothbrushes, and would be doing so all week. No one in Slytherin was feeling very combative after that punishment was announced.

Draco was so pleased with himself, he dragged Harry off to an abandoned classroom for a celebration shag. Granted, he was a little mussed when they went to the Great Hall for dinner, but it had been well worth it. He wasn't wasting any time or opportunities. 

Keeping thoughts of Wednesday's ugly duty from his mind was easy, as long as Harry was there to 'distract' him often and well. Still, his dreams were restless and tinged with anxiety. Two in the morning found Draco awake and edgy. Harry was breathing softly beside him, blissful and genuinely tired. The need for a little 'sleep therapy' gnawed at him until he made up his mind to make use of Harry, asleep or not.

Harry's slumbering length was teased, pleased and manipulated until fully erect, then oiled, mounted and softly ridden until Draco had sated himself. This time, Harry scarcely stirred throughout the entire process, and that was just as well, since Draco hadn't really wanted to drag his lover to full wakefulness just because of his petty angst.

A whispered Cleaning Spell and a short trip to the loo, and he was curled beside his exhausted lover and drifting quietly off to sleep.

Tuesday was a bit more complicated. Although Blaise was administering the mentoring program for the first years, the assignment of tutors to students with weak areas was Draco's personal project. At least Harry had Occlumency that day, and would be busy for a few hours after classes.

Draco had time to conduct interviews with a few volunteers and browbeat a few gifted, but uninterested, students into joining. He had several students gifted in Potions, Charms and Herbology, but couldn't find even one unusually qualified student in Divination. 

Then there was Defense Against The Dark Arts. Draco considered tutoring that one himself, but that would really cramp his schedule. It occurred to him to ask Harry for a bit of help. Harry had always scored high in DADA, better than Draco had most of the time. It might just be an experiment worth starting, especially from an inter-house cooperation standpoint. That had some potential, but it really hung on how much time he and Harry had after classes each day.

For Harry's part, Tuesday started well, but was ending a bit rough. Despite a slight softening of Snape's hatred for him, the professor was still a harsh taskmaster. He grilled Harry mercilessly for two hours at Occlumency. Admittedly, Harry was getting better, fast. Snape had said that even Dumbledore would have difficulty piercing the walls around Harry's mind. Still, Snape had breached him once, albeit briefly. 

Unfortunately for Snape, he got a mind full of what Draco and Harry had done before and during their shower that morning, which made him break contact quickly and storm off to the Pensieve, cursing under his breath, eager to purge his mind.

When Harry left the lesson, his head was aching from the effort of repelling so many sudden assaults. What made it tolerable was coming back to their room and having Draco massage his neck and temples for almost an hour. 

Harry lounged comfortably, head in Draco's lap, while those wonderfully talented fingers soothed away his throbbing headache. He was drifting slightly when he felt the faint twitch at the back of his neck that suggested his boyfriend had needs beyond the giving of massages. In a single smooth motion, Harry turned over and was face down in Draco's lap.

He curled his head in comfortably and let his hot breath soak through Draco's slacks and warm his groin. Harry nuzzled his chin around the warm fabric and slid his hands up Draco's legs.

Draco let a small sigh go when that handsome face buried itself in his lap and teased his hard-on right through his clothes. Then, sure hands were slipping his shirt up and unzipping his slacks. Harry's mouth was nibbling at his underwear and that warm breath seemed to soak right through his soul.

It was sheer relief when he felt a gentle tug on his trousers and he shifted his hips and let Harry slip the pants off him silently. That eager mouth found its way to Draco's inner thigh, and left him shivering with pleasure as it leisurely journeyed its way back to his groin. A calloused hand was wrapping itself around his cock, and Draco groaned when it squeezed gently...pre-come was already pearling at the tip and beginning to trickle down the head. Then Harry relented, smiling and moving forward until he was positioned with his head just above Draco's lap.

What caught Draco by surprise was the way Harry dove onto him a second later, swallowing Draco's erection eagerly and working it quickly and tightly. No more teasing or pacing it, just strong lapping suction, working lips and a hand that pulled him closer and closer to edge so very quickly. Not the gentle mellow head of previous nights, but a swift and skillful hurry to make Draco come.

Saliva and pre-come were leaking around Harry's fist while he worked noisily, eyes closed, face oddly blissful. All told, it took less than five minutes before Draco came hard, clutching at Harry's mussed black hair, jolting upright and calling out his lover's name repeatedly. 

Harry gave him no surcease, milking every drop from Draco with a steady hand and a tireless tongue. When Draco flopped back onto the bed, still faintly trembling, Harry pulled out his own erection and knelt over Draco's heaving chest. Harry wanked himself to orgasm in less than a minute, and Draco barely had time to hitch his shirt up before his chest and stomach were liberally coated in come. Harry collapsed at his boyfriend's side and lapped Draco's body gently with his tongue, until the last evidence of his own orgasm had been removed.

Draco grinned and turned to kiss Harry, the taste of his lover's come wasn't new to him, so it made little difference to Draco that Harry had just cleaned him like a cat. In the comfortable aftermath he finally broke off a question. "Where did that come from?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Tomorrow's probably not going to be a great day. Might as well enjoy a change of pace today. Besides, I can't get enough of your cock. I seem to remember mentioning this a few times, but it's really beautiful to look at, every bit as perfect as everything else about you. I haven't really had enough experience to have a 'style' of my own yet, so I just wanted to do it a different way. You liked?"

"Oh...oh yeah...I liked. I should warn you that if that becomes your style, I'll probably never last beyond five minutes ever again. It just felt way too good. Funny thing, you know? Now that I think about it...almost all the people I ever had sex with were so busy trying to get into my arse that I almost never got blow jobs from anyone. A few, but usually only half way, just to get me revved up, as soon as I seemed ready to offer up 'the goods', they stopped and never got back to it. I can't ever remember it being this good." 

Harry beamed with pride. Draco felt his urge to tease well up out of control. "Oh sure, get a compliment and wag your tail! Next you'll want a pat on the head and a nice hard bone for being a good boy! Good boyfriend! Fetch! Roll over!"

Harry was on him in a second...Draco felt fingers tickling him everywhere; he couldn't block them, and all the while that he giggled and shrieked, he kept taking a few last digs. "Heel! Heel! Down Boy! Down! Bad Boyfriend! Very Bad!" 

Then, with a throaty growl, Harry buried his face in Draco's neck and went to work on that delectable throat (of which he was so fond.) That cut it right there. Tuesday evening became well and rightly booked up. Despite needing to rise early for the trip to the Ministry and Azkaban, the boys thoroughly exhausted each other. 

When the morning came, and the unpleasant duty ahead of them became a vivid reality, they still couldn't help occasional smiles as they dressed. They couldn't have been in better spirits when they left Hogwarts grounds in the early morning light, kissing deeply one last time before they Apparated to the Ministry. This time, they were on the way to watch the utter destruction of the bitter and prideful man that was once Draco's entire world.


	34. A Giant Falls

Author's Notes: Beta-credit goes to Constant Vigilance (and the staff of the HF... who labored over my atrocious punctuation with uncommon valor! Especially you Sevfan!) 

 

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 34 'A Giant Falls'

Draco and Harry were quickly delivered to Azkaban by the Aurors, who were waiting for them at the Ministry. Once again, they strolled the grey and sorrowful halls of Azkaban together, this time for the most unpleasant purpose yet.

They were led to a small gallery full of seats. It overlooked a glass window that showed a room occupied only by a single door, and a chair adorned by straps. Kingsley Shacklebolt was in attendance, as were the few members of old houses that held to the etiquette of years gone by. Only Draco stood to represent the Malfoy family at this affair, but he was glad of Harry's presence beside him.

They were seated at the front of the room, as befit the nearest of kin, and seconds later, the door they had come through opened. Draco's family solicitor walked in and sat down beside him.

Mr. Burke offered his condolences politely and with a modicum of sincerity, then informed Draco that in a few minutes the sentence would be executed and there would be papers handed to Draco immediately after. Several of the papers were documents regarding his legal status as the new Lord Malfoy, and the properties that would come to his hands as part of that transfer. The remaining one was a letter from his father, prepared the previous night.

Harry and Draco exchanged concerned glances at the news of the letter from Lucius. Harry in particular felt afraid for his love. Perhaps Lucius' poison tongue had chosen to vent one last blast of bile at his child, hurting Draco one last time, even after Lucius' ability to form coherent thoughts was gone. Harry wouldn't have put it past the bastard. It was very much Lucius' style to get in the last word. They sat in silence, holding hands tightly, waiting for the event itself to unfold.

The door opened once again, and this time Aurors flanked a well-dressed and a clean Lord Malfoy. Lucius' head was held high and his stride did not indicate a man broken and headed to his end. The soon to be former Lord Malfoy walked through the room with a fierce smile across his face, chin high and eyes daring anyone to gainsay his right to walk like a noble born.

When the procession passed Harry and Draco, Lucius turned his head and gave each of them a sober and serious nod. There was no anger in his eyes, just a quiet resignation and an implacable will. His eyes spoke volumes, communicating a silent passing of the torch to the two boys that occupied the seats reserved for family.

In an instant, Draco knew he was the new lord, and would be until the day he died. The realization draped across Draco's shoulders like a mantle, settling in and subtly weighing him down with the burden so many others had once carried. A history of more than a thousand years became a sudden reality to him; a duty that was almost made sacred by its very age. 

Draco was no longer just a teenaged schoolboy, concerned with pangs of love and lust and the grind of class work. Now he was the steward of a house and its traditions, which called upon him to sacrifice much of himself in the service of something ancient and proud. 

Draco took all this in over the space of a few heartbeats, meeting his father's gaze for a matter of seconds, then he watched the tall and powerful gentleman who had sired him walk to his death. 

Lucius sat in the chair calmly, and was bound at the wrists and ankles by the Aurors who had flanked him. He sat peacefully, almost serene, as his guardians left the room.

Lucius looked to his right lazily, as if bored by the opening door on the far wall. The Dementor that entered, the last one in captivity since their betrayal of Azkaban, swept in with icy silence. It moved swiftly to the only being in the room with it, zeroing in on Lucius in less than a second.

Most surprising of all was the strange, daring smile on Lucius' face when he leaned forward boldly, meeting the creature's Kiss without a tremor of fear. Their faces joined only for a few minutes, but the Kiss took its toll quickly. The rigidness of the man's muscles quickly lessened until they hung slack, and when the creature parted from him, that haughty face was dull and empty, eyes lacking even a spark of rational thought. Lucius Malfoy may have lived, but all that one might have recognized of him had been stripped away. 

The Aurors cast their spells and drove the Dementor through the other door, then they entered and locked it. Lucius was unbound and led, stumbling and slack-jawed, back to his cell.

Through all this, the boys had sat in silence, but Draco's iron will finally unclenched and he laid his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry pulled Draco's head into the crook of his arm and kissed his neck in quiet sympathy.

Even Harry had been impressed by Lucius' majesty in his final moments. He wished he had known the man that Draco had known so many years ago. It seemed such a waste that anyone with so much strength would end his days in this dank, grey hellhole.

Draco was stifling tiny sobs against Harry's chest, and his hands were holding Harry's so tightly that they hurt quite badly. After a few graceless minutes, Draco composed himself, pretending that his momentary lapse of etiquette had not happened.

Mr. Burke coughed discreetly and offered Draco his condolences, then handed him a letter, explaining that his father's last statements and wishes were contained within. 

Mr. Burke excused himself and left politely, leaving Draco staring at the letter in his hands. Kingsley Shacklebolt waited in grim silence. Even the grizzled Auror was uncomfortable, having watched a man he loathed pass so bravely before the ultimate judgement. Still, he waited politely for the boys to make their peace since, for an occasion like this, there was no rushing the family of the sentenced.

Draco looked to Harry with the letter trembling in his hands, and Harry gave only a silent nod, as if to say, 'Do what you must, I'll be here for you when you're done.' 

Draco opened the letter and began to read. When he put the parchment down, he began to weep, tipping his head back and smiling in a way that left Harry stunned as the tears rolled down Draco's cheeks. Draco handed Harry the letter, wiping his eyes and grinning almost insanely wide. Harry took the parchment from his boyfriend's shaky hand...and this is what he read:

 

To Draco, my beloved son and true heir, whom I have wronged,

I write this in the hours before the Kiss is to be administered, knowing that my time as a coherent and rational man is now measured in but the smallest increments. Much of what I have said and done is unforgivable. This I know. I have been given cause to look back upon my life and the choices that I have made; all those things which have led me to this time and place. You should know that I look back with some regret. I have told you many things regarding my opinion of the wizarding world and its leadership. You have heard it all many times. The majority of it, I still hold to be true. There are, however, some certain things which I now know, with perfect clarity, to have been misjudgments of my own. 

Lord Voldemort offered himself as an agent of change, which I embraced. Yet, in the end, it seems he was only an agent of terror and pointless destruction. I was a fool to have followed him so far down the path to open war, knowing what a repulsive and obsessed creature he had become. I regret that I have been responsible for the fall of our family name, and the loss of much of our stature in the wizarding community.

More so than the former, I carry one regret so deeply that I cannot speak of it aloud, thus this last letter. That regret is what I have put you through. At this hour, as I write, I thank the gods you never aligned yourself with Voldemort or fell into his sphere of influence. Shortly, you shall be the Lord Malfoy, and it will take a great deal of work to overcome the shameful legacy I have left behind. I grieve now that I have caused you so much pain, even when I had only the smallest shred of time left to share with my family. The things I have said to you were the rantings of a trapped and bitter man, all unfit to be repeated, all untrue. 

You are my only child, my bright and beloved son, of whom I am so terribly proud. The stain of my angers and fears never tainted you, and I am glad of it. My greatest fear, in many ways, was that you might well have been a better man than I. I do not fear that thought any longer, I rejoice in it. Be wise and good through your life, be kind and decent and fair. Reject everything I once embraced, and you will have a far happier life than mine.

Though it pains me to say such a thing, that Potter is an exceptional young man. His words ringing in my ears brought about this letter. I cannot say I approve of abandoning the responsibilities of an heir for some sort of arrangement with another man, but if you must, better it be with someone such as he. I have no doubt that my former lord will be dealt with in the most thorough and permanent way available when he finally meets Mr. Potter.

Last, I know an apology is a trivial and meaningless thing; so much I have done is beyond the strength of any apology to expiate. I ask instead that you forgive me for being a proud and stubborn man, and for being too blind to see all that I was blessed with. If you can forgive me, I ask for a single boon. Soon I will face the Kiss. All hope, any dreams, every happy thought will leave me. I know the boon I ask will only delay the inevitable, yet I desire it anyway. I wish a memory to be captured and brought to me. Just one. One memory that I can look upon and from which try to extract some small amount of satisfaction.

Do you remember when you were six and we used to walk the gardens every day? I would carry you on my shoulders and name the plants and animals for you. I recall that you liked to chase butterflies and fireflies. I want only one memory of those times. I think, having given much consideration to the matter, that those were the happiest and most free moments of my entire life. So much that came after was tainted by my arrogance and hubris. Grant me this one final boon, and I shall be grateful, though I may have no means to express it.

I wish you a long and happy life, my son, and I implore you to use it well and wisely. Look after your mother as best you can. Though I never said it enough in days past, I love you dearly and am more proud of you than you may ever know. 

Your Father, Lucius Malfoy 

 

Harry read the letter to its end, awed by every word. Nothing in that page of neat script resembled the man he'd struck and cursed just over a week ago. Now he knew just a glimpse of the man that Draco had called his father, and that knowledge left him reeling. Draco's eyes were fixed upon the ceiling, as if to implore heaven for some shred of explanation, and when he curled to Harry's side, it was only to sob into that fine, strong shoulder. 

The world contracted, just two boys in a room of empty chairs, holding tight to one another...with Kingsley Shacklebolt, silent as the grave in the corner, watching in discomforted silence at the grief that poured from the last scion of a house he'd sworn to see crushed. 

Justice seemed a pettier thing, a smaller word, than when he'd first taken his oath as an Auror. Perhaps there was Good and Evil, but there was much in between the two, and this was sobering in the face of what he watched pass between the last Malfoy and his lover, The Boy Who Lived.

There was a fine irony there, Kingsley mused. That a house steeped in darkness should, at the last, fall to the hands of one turned to light by the wizarding world's own saviour. It was hard for a veteran Auror to believe, but maybe in that weird fusion was a lesson that could well be the future of their world, a faint chance at peace after so much death and sorrow. 

Harmony between opposites. It might be more than an old and battle scarred veteran could learn, but the thought that a new generation would see these boys' example pleased him. These and other thoughts curled like smoke through Shacklebolt's mind, while Harry and Draco clung to one another with quiet desperation. 

Azkaban may have been the very vision of hell, but when it was behind them, and the Ministry was just a blur of offices and robes, Draco led Harry down the long path of Malfoy Manor, down to the doors of the place he now ruled as Lord Malfoy. The new lord held his lover's hand every step of the way, safe in the knowledge that, even if he were indeed the last of his line, he would still surely leave this world as the happiest.


	35. Too Much To Bear

Author's Notes: So ends the Second Story Arc for this fic. The Third and final is starting up full strength now. My thanks go out to everyone who stuck with this so far and means to see it to the end. The reviews and ratings make me blush with pride when I see them, and have the power to keep me writing long after my initial rush of inspiration has faded...Thank You All. Beta-blessings go forth to Constant Vigilance, with many bows and much scraping.

 

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 35 'Too Much To Bear'

 

Narcissa Malfoy lay quietly in her bed, half between the realm of dreams and that of nightmares. Her mind flitted between happy memories of some fifteen years ago, and the ugly realities of the here and now.

Lucius. Being in his presence had been like standing in the sunlight, and she had bloomed brightly. Now he was absent, would be evermore, and she felt utterly starved for the lack of him. Her dreams plunged fully into the realm of nightmares as her mind's eye saw him, slack-eyed and filthy, in a horrid little cell beneath the earth.

This could not be the way he would leave her...shouldn't be, but it was. It wasn't a nightmare; it was real. This time, there would be no escape, no pardon, no return to a shadow of normalcy.

This time, her husband would not come home, not write to her, not even speak again. Sharp grey eyes, that once speared through her heart, were now just dull and lackluster orbs that lolled at random.

In her sleep, her sobs were stifled by her lack of consciousness, but the painful tightness in her chest snapped her back to reality.

Still in her hand, was the letter the solicitor had delivered the day before. Lucius' last letter to her; so eloquent and passionate, a final thing of beauty from a mind that had been bent by cruelty for so terribly long. 

The irony was crushing. That after praying and pleading for years to bring the best of him back to the surface, she finally had in her hands written evidence of the man she had adored, just in time to lose him finally and absolutely.

It hurt so bitterly. Everything was so sharp and hard and cold. Even her breath came uneasily, shallow little draughts that scarcely gave her strength. Food tasted like ashes and bile. She didn't want to rise, and in truth she didn't want to wake. She didn't want to breathe or think or feel anymore.

Would eternity be a clock that counted seconds and minutes, but never heralded her husband's return, leaving every day a battle against her own heartsickness and sorrow?

Narcissa had never been a strong person. Her husband had been the strong one; just by his presence she had felt sure and certain about the world and their place in it. She had little strength of her own, and now, without him, she seemed to have none at all.

The clock read nine in the morning. It was time...Lucius' last minutes. Seconds ticked by cruelly, and even though she was awake, her mind's eye captured a glimpse of a shambling, pitiful ruin of a man being led back to a hole in the ground to wait for death.

Her chest tightened, her breath caught hard in her lungs, and for a brief and sparkling second the pain was searing. Then it was over, and she felt free and fine, almost young again. She sat upright quickly and stepped out of her bed. As she glanced back, she saw the pale little body that still lay amidst the tangled sheets. How frail and tired it looked. 

Was that really her? Lying there wracked by grief and looking so worn and thin and still. It seemed unbelievable to her, and yet now she was free of it. Done with life and its cruelties and pains. She wanted to take a deep breath, but felt no need for air. Wanted to walk away, but felt no substance, no floor beneath her. 

She thought of the one she would be leaving behind. Her child...he would surely miss her. She would miss him, too, but she knew there was nothing that could be done to change that now...there wasn't time.

Voices were calling her...familiar and friendly ones, her parents and their parents as well. It was time to go...and with a last, faint prayer of well wishes for her child's life, she slipped away, knowing instinctively that she would see the spirits of those she missed again someday. It would be her among the chorus of voices calling others home someday. Her time here was done, and then she was gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry and Draco entered the Manor, and were relieved of their coats by a house-elf. Draco quickly instructed the elf staff to conduct a complete inventory of the property, beginning with books, which was to be written and delivered to him as soon as it was complete. Then he sent an elf ahead to let his mother know they were coming, while he and Harry walked through the long halls of the Manor to see her.

They held hands again as they walked, this time looking at the splendor that was now Draco's domain in a different light. How empty the place seemed, how quiet and without joy the halls were. These were the grim thoughts that hovered unspoken between them as they wound their way to Narcissa's suite. 

A house-elf stood trembling at the opened door of the suite, and the very air around them was suddenly tinged with a palpable sense of wrongness. The teary-eyed elf began to stutter something, something terribly important, but Draco shoved through the door and into the room with a fluttering panic rising in his chest. "Mother...?"

"Mother?"

"...mama...?"

The still, cool, alien thing on the bed in front of him offered no answers...and understanding struck him like an explosion. Mercifully, Draco's mind shut down completely and he fell to the floor in a dead faint, briefly oblivious to what had just passed.

Harry stood in the doorway, taking in the tableau before him in quiet agony. His lover had just been effectively orphaned in one vicious morning. Harry came unfrozen a second later and pulled Draco to his chest and carried him out into the hallway. Once he was sure that his lover was breathing normally, he stepped back into the room and pulled the sheets over what was left of the sweet and funny woman that had been Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry had seen a lot of death in just six short years, and though he wasn't comfortable with it, he had learned to handle it calmly. He laid one hand on the chill skin of Narcissa's brow and offered a silent goodbye, and a promise that he'd look after her son. Then, he slipped the sheet the last few inches over her head and left the room.

Draco wasn't there anymore! Still, he couldn't have gone far...it had been less than a minute or two. Harry hurried down the hall in pursuit, sure that Draco had probably wandered in delirium and would need him.

Draco came conscious on the cold stone of the hall, and for one merciful second, all he could gather were thoughts along the lines of 'What happened?' and 'Where am I?', then reality crashed back into place, and he knew with a stark certainty what had just passed. It was too much, too much for one mind to take in so quickly...he may have been awake, but his state of mind could not have been called fully conscious by any means.

An aching void consumed him whole. Every place that once held happiness or joy was awash in a sea of total anguish. His very being was on fire with pain that made seconds feel like days. Overloaded and glassy eyed, he stumbled down the hall. This could stop, he could make it stop, these things he was thinking would go away.

His father's suite. Down the hall. Something there would help him...make him not feel this. He found the room and walked calmly to the nightstand by his father's bed. There, in the drawer, he wouldn't have to know these THINGS anymore!

It was small and yet heavy; an ugly, yet strangely elegant Muggle tool. A 19th century pistol; filigreed silver and polished ivory, his father's 'secret' weapon for emergencies. It could make everything go away. Draco raised the clumsy thing to his traitorous skull, so packed with thoughts that hurt and tore and burned...and then he pulled the trigger.

Harry burst through the open door of the suite down the hall and saw the thing in Draco's hand rising to his head. Most wizards knew little of the Muggle world, but Harry knew precisely what that thing in Draco's hand would do.

He raised his wand and almost screamed, "Expelliarmus!", sending the pistol careening across the room and into a wall just as it fired, the single bullet released tearing through the wood of the bedpost. Draco turned to look at Harry with eyes that burned. Then he began to shake...and then he screamed.

Harry ran to him and held him as tightly as he could, but the screams didn't stop. This was something almost beyond grief; this was near total insanity. Draco screamed until his throat was a raw and bleeding ruin. He screamed until Harry thought his own eardrums would burst. It may have been an hour, perhaps a bit longer at the most, but it felt like days. 

Harry remained wrapped around his lover, weeping onto the back of Draco's shoulder, waiting for the storm to pass before they could carry on. When full-throated screams were no longer possible for that ruined voice, inarticulate howls replaced them. Akin to the sound of a wounded animal, dying alone and in pain, they pierced through Harry's soul and left him desperate to offer some kind of comfort, anything but having to watch helplessly while Draco suffered in some private hell of the mind. 

In time, Harry became conscious of Draco's stillness, and when he wiped his eyes and loosened his grip, he looked into vacant eyes that held no sign of recognition. He remembered the Muggle term from the telly hospital shows...catatonia. Draco had lost touch with reality in his grief.

Fear filled Harry suddenly and crept through every thought that followed. What if it was permanent? Did magic have a cure for this? How would he get help here? Draco held the wards! No one could enter or leave without his permission, and he was completely incapacitated, trapping them both here! Harry's mind raced for answers. He called out for a house-elf and one instantly appeared, it's wizened face somber and nearly stricken by the death of its mistress.

"What's your name?" Harry asked quickly.

"Engy, sir," answered the little creature.

"Engy...your new Lord is sick and needs help. I can't break the wards here and someone has to be told. Can you leave here by magic and return? I know house-elf magic is strong."

"Yes, but who would Engy go to, sir? Engy only knows this house. Engy doesn't know any others." 

"Go to Hogwarts School. If you can't find Professor McGonagall, well, find Professor Snape. Tell them the Lady Malfoy passed away and that Draco is so distraught that he tried to kill himself. If they can find a way to get here or get us out, I know they'll try it. Remember, this is for your new master, he needs your help even if he can't say it right now!"

"Right, sir, yes, sir, Engy can do this, for the master...right," and with a faint pop the elf was gone.

Time crawled for Harry while he sat with Draco curled in his arms. He whispered every word of comfort he could imagine into the ears of his lover, hoping that somewhere inside his fragmented mind, Draco was hearing how loved and wanted and needed he really was. Harry recited these things like a litany of adoration, letting his mind roam while his lips continued an endless prayer of affection and love. 

Finally, after what had seemed like an interminable length of time, Severus Snape walked through the door in a flurry of robes, bearing a satchel full of supplies and a worried scowl.

Harry stumbled over an explanation of what had passed, babbling almost incoherently, hovering on the edge of tears now that someone else was present. Snape listened impassively and began withdrawing materials from his satchel while Harry spoke. Then he handed a small vial to Harry.

His voice betrayed nothing, but Snape was nearly overwrought as well. "Potter," he said in a perfect neutral tone, "...drink this. It will calm you without rendering you useless. I have need of your assistance, and you must retain a clear mind for what I mean to do."

Harry gulped the rather pleasant tasting fluid down quickly, and felt a slow creeping ennui overtake him. He was clear headed, but utterly calm and detached from the situation. It was no longer a struggle to clench back tears. Meanwhile, Snape poured a different potion down Draco's throat by using a slender funnel that ensured it would be properly swallowed without danger. Then he turned back to Harry.

"Clever of you to think of the house-elves, Potter. I'd not thought you had the wits to come up with such a thing. You've done well. It appears you've saved his life by quite a narrow margin. I will not repeat myself again, and if you should mention this to another soul, I will make your last months at Hogwarts an abyss of detentions, but you have my most profound gratitude. If you hadn't acted as you did, my godson would be dead now." 

Snape read the surprised expression on Harry's face easily and frowned annoyance. "Really, Potter! Who needs Occlumency when you wear your thoughts on your face that way! I was present at his birth and was named his godparent by Lucius and Narcissa. With the exception of a few cousins from distant families, Draco is now the last family I have left. I helped him ward this house after Lucius' arrest, thus I was able to enter. He was a remarkable child, and one of the few joys in my life. Now he is an even more remarkable young man, and I should not want to lose him to grief like this." 

Snape settled his flinty gaze on Harry and looked almost kindly when he spoke again. "We have to get him out of these suites and into his own bed. He needs to be somewhere less painful to him when we do what must come next. I believe you care for him as much as you proclaim. It's time to use some of what I've been trying to teach you. Now pick him up and come along."

Harry lifted Draco into his arms and held the smaller youth almost gingerly, walking carefully down the halls of the Manor until they reached Draco's rooms. He placed the limp body of his boyfriend on the bed and set pillows to make him comfortable, even if he didn't respond.

Snape was mixing herbs with a small mortar and pestle while chanting softly. Harry wasn't certain of what to do and remained at the corner of the bed holding Draco's hand. The Professor finished his work and pulled a chair close to the bed. He sat down and used his wand to quickly ignite the mixture he'd prepared. The smoke slowly filled the room and left Harry's senses tingling with the awareness of magic. 

Then Snape spoke calmly and with deliberation. "Occlumency and Legilimency, Potter, have more than just a couple of uses. Aside from defense and interrogation, they can be used to heal wounded minds. St. Mungo's has used these techniques for centuries, and that is what you will do now. Any fully accomplished Occlumens can do this, but it is still best if someone beloved by the patient does the work. I believe you fit that description."

"Yes, professor, but I've never quite done this, just read about it a bit and practiced the basics. What if I can't do it right?" Harry was glad the potion he'd drunk was working...roiling just beneath the calm surface of his mind, he could feel the tension and gnawing fear that had overwhelmed him earlier.

"If you fail, you may try again. If you cannot do this, then I shall try. Only by great folly or ill-intent could either of us harm his mind, so do not be afraid of action.

You will be looking for the moment he walked through that door and saw his mother, as well as the few minutes afterwards. When you find them you will soothe those memories in the way you were taught, make them a little more distant and safe, then his conscious mind can assert itself without further stress. He will not forget anything, not completely, but he will be able to function when he wakes. Take up your wand, Harry. The sooner this is done, the sooner Draco will be well again. Do it now."

Harry hadn't time to register the shock of being spoken to so gently...by Snape of all people, much less being addressed by his first name! At this moment, all he thought of as he raised his wand was how much he loved the slender youth on the bed before him. He could do this...he had to. Harry cast the spell more gently than ever before, the word a mere whisper as he moved his mind forward.

"Legilimens," and then he was in Draco's mind.


	36. The Maelstrom

Author's Notes: I'd like to apologize for the darkness bomb I dropped with the last chapter, I know it's ugly, but I wanted that tragic element in this story. I hope I gave death some dignity and realism, hopefully some poignancy too. Today's music groove : VAST. Music to dream by, really. Beta Magic by Constant Vigilance.

 

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 36 'The Maelstrom'

 

Draco's mind was a chaotic swirl of images, despite his still and quiet body. Harry was hard pressed to distance himself from the waves of tangible anguish that assailed him at every turn. It would be easy to get lost in this blizzard of sorrow, and, more than once, he considered withdrawing and letting Snape take his place.

What kept him going was plain. Draco needed him, and he needed Draco. They had come too far, too fast and, without one, the other would fall apart. He had to find his way through this maelstrom of emotion...somehow.

Harry grabbed hold of the image of Draco's mother and rode it like a broomstick through the corridors of his lover's mind. He found himself in the hazy memories of Draco's childhood. Narcissa seemed tall and angelic, a figure of awe inspiring love and gentleness.

Harry latched hold of his inner strength and willed himself forward through Draco's mind. Through birthdays and childhood triumphs, through comforts and pains, and into the blur of Hogwarts.

Harry paused...he was looking at Malkin's robe shop, years ago in the fitting room. Draco was looking at him intently when Harry walked in, he hadn't noticed it then, but the look the excited soon-to-be Slytherin had favored him with had been one of sudden interest and confused desire. It filled Harry with an instant tide of emotions, thinking of the two of them there, so close to friendship and missing it by only a few hasty, ill-spoken words. Then he remembered his duty, and moved quickly on.

The memories he flashed through were taxing for him. He appeared before himself now and again, always a figure of intense interest and passion, be it for good or ill. He saw Lucius change drastically with every passing year, cruel and viper tongued, a figure of menace instead of one of love.

Narcissa, however, did not change at all. She remained patient, affectionate, understanding and encouraging through every momentous event in Draco's life. Whatever his father had tried to mold him into, his mother had subtly undermined, keeping Draco at least slightly in touch with the person he really was. Harry slowed as the day he sought grew closer.

Finally he whisked through the sentence of Lucius and into Malfoy Manor. Here, there was work to be done. At the door to Narcissa's suite, Harry began his labor, weaving a cocoon of magic around the memories that had driven his lover mad. He softened the rough edges of Draco's already bruised psyche and created a kind of mental distance between the event and Draco's memory. He would remember everything, but it would be a soft memory, one without shock or horror.

Muggles had drugs that did such things, but those were dangerous and addictive. What Harry did would fade in time, but allowed the person so spelled a lengthy process of recovery before the spell slowly faded away. No messy after effects, no sudden jolt back to reality. 

Harry worked with a caution born of his abiding love for Draco and, as he worked, he left behind him traces of that love: whispered ghost words of need and desire, affection and respect, love and adoration. When he was done, he withdrew with aching slowness, aware of the exhausted state of Draco's mind, slipping away with a last benediction to his sleeping lover's now calm dreams.

Harry opened his eyes and sucked in his breath, then stumbled as his head throbbed and his knees went weak. He felt Snape's arms catch him and settle him into a chair.

"Well done. I can already sense the difference. I believe it worked. He'll be fine when he awakens, though he may still be grieving...at least he shall have his equilibrium and a measure of sanity when he comes to. Drink this, Potter, it will diminish the headache you shall shortly be enduring." 

Snape handed Harry a rather bitter smelling brew, and Harry drank it without question. It occurred to him afterwards that he had just placed a lot of trust in Severus Snape. Discomforting was too mild a word to describe that. Nonetheless, Snape had come to the rescue quickly and efficiently, thereby sparing Harry from the burden of comforting Draco alone, trapped in a house that was not his own.

Harry clutched his aching head and squinted at Snape, trying to look grateful. "Thank you, sir. I mean, for everything. If you hadn't come, I don't know what I would have done. I was so scared for him. I just held onto him and kept him close to me, but he just wouldn't come around at all. You don't know what this means to me. I...I never thought I'd say this, but if there's anything I can do to make this up to you, anything at all, just ask. I owe you, I can't even say how much." 

Snape almost flinched under the barrage of gratitude. His lips half curled into a snarl...then he calmed and simply answered, "Just do what you're here for, I shall consider myself repaid when I am no longer needed by the Order." He quickly began packing his things before any further outpourings of emotion were flung at him.

"Potter, I shall be taking the both of you to Hogwarts as soon as possible. I have already instructed the house-elves to begin the preparations for Narcissa's funeral. While you were busy, I also sent a message by Floo to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall is aware that the matter here was most dire, and you are excused from classes until tomorrow morning. When the arrangements for the Lady Malfoy's funeral have been made, you will both be excused again for the occasion." Snape made the words sound so commonplace, so business like, that Harry was a little aghast. Snape caught Harry's look out of the corner of his eye.

"I'll have none of your silent judgements," he hissed angrily, "...do NOT mistake a sense of duty toward what must be done for callousness! I will grieve in my own time and way and you will be no part of it!" Snape angrily handed Harry a last potion.

"You will give this to Draco when he awakens. Send a house-elf for me when he does. Then we shall go." With a rattle of potion bottles and a flurry of black robes, he swept out of the room and left Harry alone in Draco's room, still holding his sleeping boyfriend's hand.

Harry sat awhile, then realized he was exhausted both emotionally and physically. He curled into the bed beside Draco and wrapped his arms around the still body of his lover. Harry's heart suddenly felt so terribly loud, still pounding from tension and fear.

Poor Draco! He made peace with his father just in time to lose him, and then came home to a mother who had passed away before he could see her. A shred of ugly doubt filled Harry's mind. Was this what happened to people he cared about?

Pain and death and suffering followed him like vultures waiting to feast after the chaos he brought with him. Was Draco just another victim of being near Harry Potter and His Fucking Evil Scar and Fucking Stupid Prophecy?

It had been because of Harry that Lucius had been arrested; in a way, he'd been the one to kill Lucius and leave Lady Malfoy sick and weak! Harry was leaking tears when he drifted to sleep beside his lover. At least sleep offered a temporary oblivion that stripped these thoughts from him.

Snape sat in silence in Lucius' study, brooding over the events of the morning. Two old friends dead in a day, his godchild nearly following them to the grave, and Potter in the thick of it with those god awful eyes of his. It was like having Lily staring at him, boring into him, asking answers to things for which he'd long since paid a hundred times over.

Severus conjured a pot of tea and poured himself a cup. He sunk his head into his hand shortly after the first sip. He didn't weep, though his shoulders shook oddly and his chest tightened. He held it together again, like he always did. If he could be silent when Voldemort used the Crutiatus Curse upon him, then he could remain composed through this. It was just so tiring, so very, very tiring. 

Damn Potter and his ill wind of misfortune. Damn Draco and his taste in companions. Damn Voldemort and damn Dumbledore and their infernal wrangling that kept him dangling from a precipice for almost twenty years. Someday, this would be over. Someday soon, he would be allowed to rest without an hour of spells and potions to guard his mind and soul. Perhaps then he could have the luxury of tears or smiles like others. Just...not...now!

He grabbed a decanter of costly brandy from Lucius' desk and chased his tea with that. A few minutes later, he had his composure back and summoned a house-elf. He rattled off a list of instructions regarding the preparation of Lady Malfoy for burial on Draco's behalf, and returned to his tea, hoping his godchild would wake soon and free them all from this place.

Harry felt the faint shudder beside him even in his sleep. Draco woke, crying softly, just small sobs and whimpers...all that his ruined throat could handle. Harry wrapped his hands around Draco's head and whispered his condolences and the little comforts that he could offer. It took awhile, but Draco recovered enough to try to speak...then rasped horribly when he tried to get words out. Harry fumbled for the potion Snape had left. 

"Here love, Snape left this for you. I think it's for your throat. I sent a house-elf for help and he brought Snape. People who love you are right here, don't worry about anything." Harry spoke as soothingly as he could, trying to mask the panicky edge of his own voice.

Draco took the vial and drank from it slowly. His movements were stiff, almost zombie-like. He laid his head on Harry's lap and sat quiet for several minutes.

"Harry..." Draco's voice was still a disaster, but at least he could get words out, however garbled. "...I felt you. In my mind. Thank you. I'm sorry. I love you." The difficulty of speech made every statement almost mechanical sounding, but Harry could feel the sincerity of them and gently stroked Draco's terribly mussed hair.

"There's nothing you should be sorry for, love. I'm here and you're okay now. We'll get through this. I wish this hadn't happened, but we'll still make it." Harry leaned down and kissed Draco's brow ever so softly, then leaned back and continued stroking his lover's hair.

"Harry...," Draco paused. His words seemed so calm, his voice almost plaintive and yet weirdly matter of fact. "I lost them both. I don't know what to do now. What do I do, Harry?"

"Snape is taking care of some of it, love. We'll go back to Hogwarts soon. You hold the wards here and you can get us back. You'll always have me, though, and your godfather loves you very much, even if it takes Legilimency to pry the words out of him, it's still true. You still have a family, love. It's just different now. Everything will be taken care of, and soon it will be better, you'll see." Harry hoped those words would come true.

He summoned a house-elf and sent word to Snape. Only seconds later, another house-elf arrived with the book inventory and handed it quietly to Harry. Even the elf staff had discreetly recognized that he was now a part of the household. Although Harry suspected privately that the house-elf rumor mill might have even reached Dobby's former fellow servants, and that might have helped speed his acceptance in this house. 

He glanced at the list and saw the title he was looking for in only a minute, then sent the house-elf to fetch it for him. He had the book safely tucked away before Snape even made it to them. He privately cursed himself for even thinking of the Order's business at a time like this, then got back to helping Draco up and tried to keep them both busy.

Severus entered the room somberly and without airs. This time, he crossed the threshold and simply grabbed Draco in a rough hug. Harry stood apart in surprise, even after seeing Snape in a different light, this still took Harry aback. When the two parted, Snape actually had a hint of moisture in his eyes.

"I absolutely forbid you to do anything so foolish ever again. I have only one godchild and that is you! Draco! I miss them too, but they would not want that of you. Don't rob the rest of us of your company, I know you can't see it right now, but I swear there is some joy in this world to share. If you stay, you'll find it again."

Something in Snape's words dragged Draco a little closer to life and he stood a little straighter before he spoke. "I know. Thank you, sir. I'll be all right, but right now, I just want to go. Can we get away from here? Please?"

"Very well then. Draco, if you will prepare the wards, we shall leave together. Let us be on our way." Snape readied himself, and when they were all three prepared, they Apparated to the edge of Hogwarts wards, and walked the long road to the castle together in silence, too many weighty thoughts upon them to allow conversation.

Hogwarts had rarely seen such an unlikely trio at its gates, but a strange new family had been born to take the place of the one that had been so suddenly lost.


	37. Goodbye

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 37 'Goodbye'

The week descended into chaos. Dumbledore did not return, sending only the briefest of messages regarding a serious delay, and instructing Harry to carefully study the grimoire with the help of others from the Order.

Draco was struggling to function at the best of times, distracted and depressed to a near dangerous degree. Blaise and Pansy took over most of Draco's duties, administering the changes in Slytherin, but the tutoring was placed entirely on hold.

Hermione and Snape took turns helping Harry with the ancient text he was fumbling to decode and learn, but it was slow going by any standard. Ancient languages were difficult at best, even for Hermione, and this wasn't merely foreign, but encrypted as well. 

The funeral for Lady Malfoy would be Saturday, and Harry was terrified for Draco's mental health. As the days passed, Draco ate and drank little, and spoke even less. At least they held each other often, but they hadn't been 'intimate' since that horrible morning.

Snape made himself as helpful as he could, coaching Hermione and Harry through the process of deciphering the grimoire, and had noticeably softened his attitude toward Harry, which made Advanced Potions a much less hostile place for Harry to start his day. That may well have been the only bright spot in an otherwise awful string of days.

To make matters worse, the Order had a meeting planned for Saturday night, and Draco was scarcely getting along just going to classes. Harry was torn every which way at once, trying to keep a grip on more problems than he could handle alone. Waking in the middle of the night, with a sobbing lover in his arms, was sapping the last of his strength.

Most privately of all, Harry was terribly ashamed at his own hormonal needs in the middle of all this. His body ached with need for the closeness he just gotten used to. His lover needed his strength and sympathy, and it was all Harry could do to keep a tent from forming in his robes half the day. He'd taken to swiftly wanking in the shower the last couple mornings, then having another one or two off in one of the Prefect bathrooms during the day.

His face burned with shame every time he thought about it. Draco and the entire wizarding world needed him, and all he could do was think with his dick! Harry hated that his body's needs sometimes ruled him in a way that made him terribly uncomfortable.

At least Professor Snape had seen to the funeral details. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and Harry would be acting as pallbearers for the Lady Malfoy. The viewing would start at 10 am, and at 2 pm, the casket would be carried to the family mausoleum in the far north gardens and laid to rest.

Announcements had already been made in the Prophet, and letters of condolence were arriving in the owl post every morning. Draco never opened them, just carried them up to the room and left them on the table. Harry watched this pattern continue right up until Saturday morning. The night before had been a stormy one, inside the castle and out, but when day broke, so did Draco's mood.

They rose earlier than normal, and dressed in their best clothes in silence. Draco was quiet, but moved with a certainty that had been missing for days. When they were ready to meet the other students, they left their room, and that was when Draco slipped a hand into Harry's and offered a stiff and bittersweet smile. Harry paused and looked into Draco's eyes. He asked Draco softly, "Are you ready, love?"

"I think so." Draco's voice was still hoarse and raw, but better. "I can do this. Harry...I didn't really feel like saying anything before, but thank you. I couldn't do this if it wasn't for you. I love you, Harry. I just needed to say it before we get there and well, you know, things get busy." Draco's eyes were clearer and more focused than they had been in days.

"Never doubted it, love. You need me, I'm here. I swear you'll never be alone, love. Not now, not ever. Merlin, I can't even tell you how glad I am you're looking better. Just take it easy and we can get through today and come home, and remember, no Order meeting unless you want to come."

"I know. Really, Harry...I feel better. I think I'll be fine. Let's go." Then they were off to the edge of Hogwarts' wards to meet the others and Apparate to Malfoy Manor.

House-elves had prepared much of the house for guests, and the largest sitting room was dominated by the ornate ebony casket of Narcissa Malfoy. Inside it, her body was a pale blond flower at rest in a bed of emerald velvet, utterly peaceful, in stark contrast to the events surrounding her death.

Snape instructed all of them on what was expected of pallbearers and ushers in an 'old family' wizarding funeral. Crabbe and Goyle were somber as could be and more than a little uncomfortable with Harry, but at least they quietly approved of him. Blaise was having a hard time of it, though.

It quickly became evident that he'd never been near a dead body before, and it was giving the normally cheerful and confident boy a round of near fits to stay calm while in the room with one. Eventually, Snape stepped in with a few drops of Soothing Potion in a cup of tea. This sorted things out well for the moment, and soon it was time for the viewing.

Throngs of people walked the path down through the Malfoy gardens, drifting into and out of the sitting room in which the former Lady rested. Draco received endless rounds of handshakes and stiff hugs from the scions of many wizarding families. Even the Weasleys made an appearance, and were thanked kindly by Draco for coming. Old feuds not withstanding, it was considered the worst form to not attend the funeral of another old family.

In the spirit of that tradition, more than a few Aurors came and grimly paid respects, in spite of their deep mistrust of the Malfoy name. It was also true that a number of highly suspect individuals made appearances, but whatever their allegiances, they kept the peace for this occasion, and simply paid their respects and left. A fair portion of Hogwarts' students came, including most of Slytherin and a surprising number of Gryffindors as well, though Ron and Hermione had been expected.

The hours passed with brutal slowness, and even Snape was weary as the viewing drew to a close. Then came the hardest part. Those who wished to join the procession remained and awaited the pallbearers. Snape led the procession through the maze of hedges to the family mausoleum with Draco just behind him. Harry, Blaise, Vincent and Gregory followed with the casket, which had been spelled to a very modest weight.

Behind them came a long host of wizards and witches in black, quiet and dignified in every step, a mournful line of well wishers sending off a lady who was, and would always be, remembered as gentle woman of the highest caliber.

The funeral itself was conducted by Severus Snape, whose eulogy stunned even Harry with its eloquence. Draco smiled, even while tears streamed slowly down his cheeks, to hear his mother so well spoken of by so many.

Inside himself, he railed against what had happened, and it ached to be suddenly aware of her absence, but he was just beginning to accept his new reality. There were people here who cared for him. Harry most obviously, Crabbe and Goyle in their ham-fisted way, Blaise and Pansy, and even Granger and the Weasleys. Severus would soon be just his godfather, no longer his teacher or Head of House. Soon they would speak as equals in the world.

Everywhere he looked, there were people who cared. He still hurt more than he could share, but the host gathered outside the mausoleum took the edge from the blind grief that had almost pulled him under a few days ago. 

When all was said and done, Draco asked to be left alone for a moment in the mausoleum in front of him. The others had already begun to depart. Harry nodded quietly and walked away to join the others in the garden. Snape followed in his wake, after giving a piercing glance to Draco that suggested Legilimency being used to determine Draco's safety and state of mind.

Draco stood by the grand iron doors of his family's ancient resting place. He stepped into the imposing marble structure and strolled down the line of crypts and plaques that marked the passing of so many Malfoys long forgotten. When he came to the shining new plaque that was his mother's, he looked back sheepishly, afraid to be seen talking to the dead. Not that he felt bad about it, just that, after his breakdown, he didn't want anyone to draw the wrong conclusions. 

He sat upon one of the stone benches that lined the lower hall and thought carefully about what he wanted to say. Some things just needed to be said aloud, not so much for the departed, as for the comfort of the living.

"I know you missed him, mama...but I needed you, too. I wish you could have stayed just a little longer. I know you were tired, but I didn't think you'd go like this. I miss you. I also know you wouldn't want me to leave yet. I won't...don't worry for me, I just...I just couldn't take so much."

He broke down a moment, gasping for breath. "Harry's so good to me, you'd be really proud of him. You know he saved me. I won't let him down again. I think I can make it all right as long as he's with me, but I won't stop missing you." Draco was silent a minute. "Thank you. For everything. You kept me sane when Papa was at his worst. Now Harry keeps me together. I'll see you someday, hopefully a long time from now, but it's a hard time here and I might be earlier than I want. I'll always love you, though. I always did."

Draco stood and walked to the arch that led out of that mausoleum corridor. He looked back one last time. "Goodbye, mama." Then he walked up and out of the mausoleum and quietly closed the iron doors behind him. It was time to find Harry and rejoin the world; they still had so very much to do.


	38. The March To War

I have returned to the cold and bitter realm of the beta-less. This was the last chapter beta'd by the deft doyenne of HF (Constant Vigilance). 

 

"All I Ever Wanted" chap. 38 'The March To War'

 

The aftermath of Narcissa Malfoy's funeral left a pall over the whole of Hogwarts. Those who hadn't attended heard of it soon enough from those who had. By silent consensus, not one student made light of Draco's loss. The whole school closed ranks out of respect for one of their own who was suffering.

Dinner in the Great Hall was a quiet and muted affair, and both the boys ate in somber silence. They'd spoken quietly after leaving the Manor, and Draco had been lost in thought ever since, Harry too respectful to intrude with more than a gentle look or a softly held hand when needed.

Evening turned to night, and when Harry readied himself for the journey into the dungeons, Draco stood and sighed, then grabbed his robes. "I'm going. Sitting here isn't doing anything for me. I think the Order meeting might actually cheer me up a bit." 

Draco let a sarcastic snort slip out. "You know it's bad when you look forward to something like that! When battle plans and survival tactics look fun, you know it's been a right shit of a week!"

Harry was just happy to hear his lover's voice sounding so sure and normal. "True, love. Maybe one bright side...if we can find someone to help a bit with the translation on that bloody grimoire we might make some progress before Dumbledore gets back. I haven't gotten past the first chapter yet, and even translated, it's nothing I can make use of. Just a lecture on the source of magical energy, nothing on how to use it. I need something I can practice...and soon...there's no telling how long we've got before Voldemort tries something."

"Black-hearted bastard, here's to his going down in flames as soon as possible. Got the Cloak and Map ready, Harry?"

" 'Course...let's see what they've come up with since last time." With that, they were Cloaked and on their way to the dungeons. Dumbledore may not be joining them this time, but there was sure to be a lot to cover this close to the start of open war.

Perhaps a quarter hour's journey saw them into the cavernous depths beneath Hogwarts, watching their steps in the flickering light from their wands. The well-guarded chamber that served as the Order's second headquarters was within view, and the Aurors that stood before the entrance nodded grim greetings as they stepped through.

Minerva McGonagall had assumed temporary command of the Order, with Kingsley Shacklebolt as her second in command. A few last minute arrivals were trickling in still, and Harry led Draco into a crowd of Weasleys.

There were far fewer harsh gazes than Draco had faced the last time. It seemed that his coming in spite of personal loss was thought of quite highly. The Weasleys, however, did not stand on ceremony much, and Draco quickly found himself smothered in affection and hugs by Molly. Her brief tirade included a stern statement about Draco's unhealthy slenderness and a near demand that he report to the Burrow with Harry soon for some decent feeding up. Even the twins had no sharp comments, save for a single kindly warning about their mother.

"There's no helping you now, Draco..." Fred started.

"...once Mum's on about feeding you...you're family," finished George. The twins clapped Draco on the shoulders and sighed in mock sympathy. Heaven spare the skinny boy who tempted Molly Weasley's wrath by avoiding her table!

The outpouring of Weasley kindness was blessedly halted by McGonagall's stern cough, drawing everyone's attention.

"I am sure you are all curious regarding the whereabouts of Albus Dumbledore, so I shall address that first. At present, he has only been able to communicate that he was stalled on the European mainland. Allies of Voldemort are stronger there than anywhere else, save England. He is doing his best to shore up resistance there and return home as soon as possible, but there is no way to gauge how long that task may require his presence. Until then, we must do the best we can to implement our existing plans." Many faces looked a little grimmer at the thought of being without Albus Dumbledore's leadership.

McGonagall continued with a clear and strong voice that belied her own personal doubts and fears. "Each of you shall take some things with you this night. The charms and enchantments have been finished upon some items that all Order members shall need. Those of you who have been designated to respond in certain places in the event of attack, shall receive Portkeys to safe houses we have set up. Healing supplies will be loaded into each site and each team will consist of a designated site keeper and healer, and three combatants who will Portkey back to their site if injured beyond their ability to fight. Additionally, each of you shall receive a charmed talisman that will signal where attacks are reported and allow you to report an attack at your position. Via these, we shall be able to swiftly move personnel to where ever they are needed most."

Harry nodded approval to Draco as they listened. The Order had really gotten its response plan down to a science. It might still be a battle to the death for all involved, but it was nice to know that lots of possibilities were considered and accounted for.

McGonagall continued. "The 'irregulars', or rather I should say our 'allied monsters', have completed training, thanks to Bill and Charlie Weasley, and Hagrid. They will stand ready at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, waiting to counter-attack, while holding that border secure. The limitations on student visits to Hogsmeade shall continue until further notice. Harry Potter...please wait to see me after we're done with tonight's meeting, there are several matters I wish to discuss with you.

Next...everyone assembled tonight shall see Mr. Shacklebolt for your team assignments and Portkey locations. Our next meeting shall include a discussion of specific battle tactics and key spells and counterspells that everyone among us should and must know. The formal portion of this meeting is ended, but I ask that you all wait until I have had a chance to speak to each of you personally. Thank you all!" Then she stepped off the small stand that acted as a stage of sorts, and began to mingle with the crowd, dispensing new orders and specific advice.

Hermione huffed disappointedly, "Really! We need help with the book! Harry needs that knowledge and it's like pulling teeth to get help with it...doesn't anyone else get how important this is!"

Ron broke in, "C'mon, luv, she isn't even here yet...she might well have some help for us yet..and you know it's gotta be hard filling in for Dumbledore as Headmaster AND running the Order. She's pretty well booked as it is. She'll help as soon as she can...I know she will!"

That was enough to pull Harry in, "Ron's right, 'Mione. McGonagall's booked worse than us. Bet she has something for us besides charms and Portkeys. Here she comes!" Harry took Draco's hand in his and waited apprehensively as Minerva McGonagall adjusted her glasses and closed the distance between Harry's little clique and the rest of the crowd.

She immediately passed out Portkeys and talismans to each of them, then offered a rare and nervous smile. "Harry, your progress has been very impressive, both in Occlumency and in exhibiting self control. Your period of detention is over, effective tonight. Likewise, your right to visit Hogsmeade, though I caution you regarding that, until our intelligence suggests it's safer.

I have additional good news for you. Albus' response to my inquiries included a most excellent reference to a much needed, but quite rare, spell of translation. As Ms. Granger excels in charms and enchantments, I shall be instructing her in the use of the spell. Then you may continue the study of the grimoire, but I must caution you not to practice ANY of the techniques within until you report to me on your progress. You shall have to use one of the spell research chambers or perhaps practice outdoors.

The little that the Headmaster was able to share with me suggests that this is a very unstable use of magic. We cannot risk accidents that may harm students. Ms. Granger...see me tomorrow morning after breakfast, I shall instruct you in the essentials then. Harry...do the best you can studying the text without practicing. If you have a practical exercise to test...see me promptly and we shall arrange for a practice chamber that you may use. That is all I have for now. Please excuse me, but I have many more people to see tonight."

Minerva McGonagall hurried off to her next meeting, flustered, tired, and thoroughly wrung out. These times were more trying than any she could recall since Voldemort's original rise to power...and she had been far younger then!

Harry gave Ron a high five. "See! Told you so, 'Mione. Trust Dumbledore to come to the rescue even from across an ocean!"

Hermione looked mollified. "Well, that's more like it. Sometimes I think people forget that, no matter how many of us are in the Order, it's our Harry that's really on the line. They can plan forever, but in the end this is about Harry."

Out of the silent background, Draco's voice was suddenly heard, soft and hoarse, but clear enough. "I've never forgotten it. I can't. Even if I wanted to." All eyes turned to him suddenly. Hermione had the feeling for the first time of having committed a huge faux pas.

"You know she doesn't mean you, love...", Harry squeezed the smaller hand in his gently. "...but she had a good point. Eventually it comes down to me and Voldemort. Everything else is just window dressing for the main event. I appreciate it, though. Better than going it alone from start to finish." Harry leaned in and kissed Draco's cheek. 

"I know. She's right, too. Sometimes these people forget that their real job is supposed to be helping you first. Fuck all else! None of it will really matter...but if they make sure you're loaded with spells that will crush the Dark Lord instead of pissing away their time on this other nonsense, things will go a lot better."

Draco didn't seem angry, but he was edgy. Only one thing would truly make him feel calm and safe again...and that was a surefire way to guarantee victory and survival for Harry.

Their conversation dwindled slowly as the crowd slipped away a few at a time. They agreed to gather at Harry and Draco's suite for lunch and study, then attempt some immediate translations on the grimoire. Harry and Draco left among the last, then draped the Cloak around themselves as soon as they were alone, making the last of their journey home in silence. 

Sunday would be a busy day. So much that had gone unfinished in the face of Draco's tragic loss needed to be caught up...and soon. Then there was the matter of his father's last wish. A spelled jewel with a special memory to ease his hopeless days and nights in the hell of Azkaban. Draco lacked the skills to create such a thing, his Occlumency training had been strictly basics and essentials...he'd need Harry's help to make that last wish a reality.

Sleep took a long time to find them, tense and fretful, curled together tightly, clinging to each other like lifelines. Draco was still numb from the shock of burying his mother, and maybe he wasn't ready to be hip deep in plans for the Order, but he wouldn't rest any easier knowing that he could have helped some way and didn't. Helping Harry was the only thing that gave him a sense of purpose; some slender thread of hope to cling to for a future.

Perhaps Monday he'd take up his duties again, but tomorrow would be for Harry. The world could wait a day. Tonight...Draco just needed to be in those arms, safe and warm even in a world of ice and danger. When sleep claimed him, he never knew that Harry lay awake hours after, gently brushing away the tears from his restless lover's nightmare-stained cheeks.


	39. Breakthrough

Author's Notes: This chapter brought to you by Tori Amos, jammin' me through my headphones. The magic of beta-power (now with new grammar-scrubbing bubbles): brought to you by Scully! Thank you, Scully! 

 

"All I Ever Wanted" Chap. 39 'Breakthrough'

 

Hermione and Ron came to Harry and Draco's suite fairly early that Sunday afternoon, eager to start the use of the new Translation Spell. This was the break they'd been waiting far too long for, and Hermione had been up since dawn, champing at the bit for the chance to learn a rare and very useful spell. Now came her chance to show it off.

They sat around the table with avid expressions, scrolls and quills at the ready. Within minutes, Hermione had broken the encryption, and the spell further rendered her capable of reading the ancient language in which the grimoire had been written. She began to read aloud, slowly, while the boys took notes furiously. The material revealed was beyond complicated; some of it was so technical that even the reference terms were above their level of mastery. There was still much that made sense, though, and all of it fascinated Harry (not to mention Hermione and Draco).

The gist of the first few chapters was thus: magical energy existed in every particle of air, soil, water and rock in the world. Magic was a by-product of life itself, generated by everything in nature, and harnessed (with considerable difficulty) by wizards and witches to cast spells. Every human being possessed some small reservior of magical energy, even Muggles, but wizards knew how to use theirs to good effect. The strength of a wizard or witch was relative to the amount of magical energy he or she could safely conduit and release in a controlled form. The first chapter even outlined a simple Diagnostic Spell that would gauge a person's effective capacity for the use of magic. This was quickly copied and saved for McGonagall's later approval.

By the time the second chapter was through, it was clear that the simplest exercises in the grimoire would build a wizard's familiarity with handling small amounts of raw magical energy. Once a wizard had acheived a modest level of experience, he could then pull raw magic at will from the surrounding environment. This 'drawn' energy allowed spellcasters to strengthen existing spells, or use magic for longer periods of time without exhausting themselves.

The grimoire went on to explain that, without magic drawn from the environment, a wizard could easily exhaust his magical reserves if he attempted to perform strong magic over too long a period of time. Harry's case of 'Healer's Drain' was a perfect example of this phenomena. Harry had drained his entire body of the magic reserved to power his spells. This had resulted in a temporary collapse, while the body slowly built its reserves back up. They were shocked to learn that, if Harry had been able to pull magic from the world around him, he could have easily healed a hundred people without risking his life! 

The Translation Spell lasted only a few hours, and when Hermione could make no sense of the next passage, they marked the page and took a break for lunch. A house-elf brought them sandwiches and juice as well as two plates of biscuits with icing. They tucked into the food with gusto, then sat back to review their notes.

"This stuff is amazing...I read a few similar things in 'Origins of Magic' and 'Basic Magical Theory', but never anything as detailed as this!" Hermione was almost glowing! "Harry...the possibilities are endless! You could yank the magical rug right out from under Voldemort's feet! You could strengthen your own counterspells or shields, or amplify a hex until it could pierce even his best shield! The sky's the limit!" 

As cute as a giddy Hermione might be, Ron knew there was something he needed to remind Hermione of, so he interrupted her gently by saying, "'Member, love, the Dork Lord has a copy of this stuff, too! I don't think it'll be easy, but at least Harry can fight fire with fire."

Draco suddenly chimed in, "That's true, but just in case anyone forgot, this is the complete copy...the one Voldie's been carting about is missing a lot. If Harry can master this, he really will have the upper hand." He leaned over and kissed Harry on the head. "That's an idea I really like. The look on that bastard's face when you magically outclass him will be priceless." 

"Well, only people with a very large and clear mental conduit for channeling magic can master this, so the first step is learning the Diagnostic Spell from chapter one!" Hermione was already back checking and making tiny test flicks of her wand before Ron interruped her.

"C'mon, 'Mione! We're not supposed to cast anything from the grimoire yet. What if something goes wrong? McGonagall'd have our hides! You know I don't like tinkering with spells I don't even know. We wouldn't even know how to fix something if it went wrong."

After a brief discussion, Draco and Harry fell on the side of curiousity, and the matter was settled by a vote of three to one. Hermione took several minutes to carefully review the spell, then cast it on herself. Within a second or two of uttering the spell and waving her wand, a tiny green light shaped like a bar appeared above her head. It was perhaps an inch or two long at most, but was clear and easy to see, despite its glow. After a few seconds, it faded away. Hermione consulted the text, then spluttered with outrage and cast the spell on herself again without explanation. The results were the same. She wailed, "It's not fair!! This stupid spell says I have a smaller than average channel...it's not possible...I...l must have done it wrong."

"Try me next!" Ron had finally lost his inhibitions. Now his curiosity was piqued and he just had to know. "I gotta see this." He stood up with his arms out like he was waiting to be 'shown the light'. He was ridiculous enough that Hermione considered a Bat-Bogey Hex for a moment, but finally cast the Diagnostic Spell. It appeared a second later, a small green bar perhaps an inch or so larger than Hermione's. Ron signaled Harry for a high five. "Finally, something I've got more native talent at than my girlfriend...other than Quidditch! I wonder if I could do that magic pulling thing, too!"

Draco burst his bubble of enthusiasm by re-reading a portion of their notes, which clearly explained that only a very few wizards possessed a strong enough channel to use that kind of magic. "...and that's not all," he continued. "Don't take it hard, Hermione, but old wizarding families tend to have larger channels for magic because of centuries of practice within the same families. Besides, a wizard with a lot of natural power can be a complete idiot, just as a witch with less magical power can be incredibly skillful at using what she has." He smiled kindly at her, hoping to make her feel a little better, before quickly adding, "Either way, I want to try this next. The Malfoys go back almost a thousand years, so I can't imagine I'll come off too badly at this."

Hermione cast it again, slightly mollified by Draco's explanation. This time the green bar of light was only a little larger than Ron's. Draco looked a little disappointed. He'd rather hoped to seriously outscore Weasley at this, but it seemed he didn't have that much more natural power than Ron. At least he could take comfort in knowing he used his magic with astonishing effectiveness. 

Harry finally stood up against the wall, slightly sheepish about being the subject of intense scrutiny. "Okay, 'Mione, hit me with your best shot." He closed his eyes and waited while she incanted the spell one last time.

The bar above Harry's head flickered to life brighter than any of the other's had, this time extending almost a foot and a half in length and crackling with tiny sparks of green bale-fire. The entire room was illuminated in a soft green radiance. Ron gawped in awe. "Blimey! Will you look at that! Harry! You've got magic enough for any half dozen of us at Hogwarts!" he exclaimed.

Draco clapped his hands and laughed, "GO HARRY! That's two ways in which my boyfriend is incredibly well endowed! HAH!" Then he stuck his tongue out at the others and gave them a full strength raspberry, excited beyond the point of preserving his dignity. Harry blushed a little at Draco's comment as he stared in surprise at the bar until it faded away. 

Hermione shrugged, "That's it then, Harry. I think we can be fairly certain about your ability to use this kind of magic. The last chapter we were on was hinting at trance techniques and how to channel and release energy safely. Do you want to keep at it today or maybe try some more tomorrow night?"

"We can try one more round, but then Draco and I have some Legilimency to practice. I don't want to be too late starting that. I do want to get enough done tonight to make sure I have something to give to McGonagall. I want to start practicing this stuff right away! The sooner I have it down, the sooner I can hand Lord Prat his own arse and have my life back." Harry sat back down and they went back to work for a couple more hours.

All told, it was a productive afternoon. The book only had eight large chapters and they had finished transcribing five of them in one day. By tomorrow McGonagall would be able to authorize a few experiments for Harry to start on, and they could work up further plans as soon as they got a feel for what Harry could do with his new found talent. Ron and Hermione left for dinner and Draco and Harry curled up for a little while to just rest. They'd been studying since an hour after breakfast and a lengthy break was called for. Draco laid his head in Harry's lap and sighed as Harry's Quidditch-calloused fingers slowly twined their way through his hair. Within minutes, the pale blond was dozing lightly in a haze of contentment. 

Harry wasn't sleepy; quite the contrary actually, as he felt more energized by the knowledge he'd gained than he'd felt in days. This new magic offered him a desperately needed weapon in the war against Voldemort, and Harry welcomed any shred of hope that came his way. Someday, if they were very lucky, he could spend every day just like this one. Close to Draco, touching him, hearing the little sleepy sounds he made while he dozed, smelling the fine exotic substances that Draco used in the shower. Heaven. 

Now wasn't the time to think with his groin, but Harry couldn't help daydreaming of their last few weeks together. Images flickered across his mind's eye. Draco in the shower...sleek and wet and smiling. Draco walking down the hall with a strut that spoke of power, grace, and raw sensuality. Draco in his arms, wonderfully soft and so hungry for every touch.

All of a sudden, he felt his eyes burning and misting . It struck Harry at that moment how very much his life had changed. Once upon a time and not that long ago, he had been starving for love while watching others eat their fill; now his every day was a banquet. Draco nourished him in a way that no one else ever could. 

Never minding the tough times and the problems and the war, this was a change so profound that it carried through every part of Harry's being. He wouldn't change any of it, not even his own past. He knew with perfect clarity that every little step in his entire life had been part of leading him to this. This state of grace that made him feel so deliciously alive. Nothing could compare to this. 

Eventually Draco woke and they faced the work they had to do tonight. Draco had a new jewel, and with Harry's help, it would become a matrix that held memories from Draco's childhood. This would be Lucius' last gift from his son, in accordance with his last request. It was the least they could do, given the remarkable last letter he'd left.

Harry entered Draco's mind as gently as a drifting leaf, his increased skill at Legilimency evident by the ease and swiftness of his entry. Draco culled his memories for just the right images, finally settling on a few he brought to the front of his mind. Harry 'marked' each image magically and then slowly withdrew from his lover's mind. One at a time, Draco drew the memories forth with his wand and placed them in the waiting jewel. Harry fixed the memories in place with spells that held them eternally: shifting images locked in stasis forever. 

There were three images in all: one of Narcissa and Lucius walking in the garden at sunset, hand in hand; another of Lucius carrying his young son on his shoulders and smiling broadly; and the final was of a slightly older Draco chasing butterflies, while his father laughed cheerfully at his playing child.

When they were finished Draco was smiling even as his eyes teared. "Thanks so much, Harry. In a way, this is even more beautiful than the one you made for me. We made it together, and this one's for my father, even after all he's done. You're a good man, Harry Potter." 

Draco brushed aside his remaining tears and smirked as he raised his chin and affected the once familiar air of arrogance he'd been famous for only weeks ago. "Not only that, but you're remarkably lucky as well! After all, without me you'd still be wandering the halls in cast-off rags and looking like you needed handouts! Someone just HAD to take you in hand and get you sorted out...can't very well have the wizarding world saved by a ragpicker, can we?"

"No..." Harry answered quietly, ignoring Draco's attempt at being jovial. "We can't have that. Besides, you know I'd be lost without you, don't you? Without you, none of this really matters. I never looked forward to facing Voldemort...until I had something worth fighting for, that is. Now all I want is to see him destroyed as soon as possible." Harry's voice was soft but determined, and his eyes were burning as he looked at Draco.

They put aside deeper emotions for the evening and made ready for bed, pausing only to clean the clutter from the table. So many notes, so much more to study. The answer to their prayers might be lying in front of them and it ached that they weren't ready to use any of it yet. 

When sleep finally came to them it was peaceful enough, but what set this night apart from the last few was the absence of tears. Draco was curled in the crook of his lover's arm, breathing softly and evenly the entire night. If his dreams troubled him, it didn't show, and Harry slept just as easily, not wakened by quiet sobs for the first time in days. It was good that they had such peace between them, because the week to come would be exhausting.


	40. Lucius' Boon

"All I Ever Wanted"....Chap. 40 'Lucius' Boon'

 

Draco rose with a new confidence on Monday. The Occlumency and Legilimency they had practiced the night before had tired him, but he felt well rested and calm for the first time in days. His normal morning rituals brought a sense of order to the day and, for the first time in days, he dragged Harry back into their room for a quick snog before they split for breakfast and classes.

The daft smile on Harry's face was priceless. Gods, but he loved seeing Harry smile because of him. It was addictive in an insidious way that crept under his guard, and left Draco feeling downright cheery again, after almost a week of severe depression.

Draco poured himself into his studies, only pausing to visit with his Slytherin classmates and impart suggestions for the new programs. He squeezed in time during lunch to compare notes with Blaise and Pansy, and even committed to starting the tutoring in a week.

Blaise had little to report aside from a general sense of well being among the first-years. Pansy confirmed the dates set for four inter-house parties aimed at the younger years. These were the students with the least ingrained bias against other houses, and this was where they concentrated their efforts. Their own class might leave Hogwarts still scarred by the way Slytherin had been, but just maybe the classes to come would leave with only fond memories.

Last, Crabbe and Goyle reported almost no significant misbehavior, although several students had made complaints about Theodore Nott. Apparently they were growing a bit weary of hearing about the stunning near absence of a penis,of which Nott boasted at every opportunity.

Draco smiled a smile of pure viciousness, and left Crabbe and Goyle chuckling when he answered, "Well, such a pity. Somehow I'm just not feeling the urge to resolve that little conflict. You'd be surprised how well I can put up with Theo's misery, but then again, maybe you wouldn't."

Harry agreed to help Draco coach some remedial students in DADA, even though it meant committing an hour or so a week from his already taxed schedule. The notion of a Gryffindor tutoring Slytherins was weird enough, but Draco liked the shock value as much as the practical benefits. Besides, at least this was an hour they'd spend together, and that made it very tolerable indeed.

When lunch was over, Draco put in his request to visit his father on Tuesday, while Harry turned in his first exercises from the grimoire to McGonagall. She approved both their requests before their next class was out, and forwarded a copy to Snape, who would be coaching Harry on the hardest technical terms later. This doubled Harry's Occlumency lesson time for Tuesdays and Thursdays. Adding in the rising tide of homework that came as the year's end crawled closer, it was shaping up to be an exhausting month for both Harry and Draco!

After classes, Harry made use of his remaining time before supper and took a stroll to the edge of the lake. Draco was busy with Slytherin House's new plans, but Ron and Hermione had posted themselves as guards, in the event that anything went wrong with the planned exercises.

Harry seated himself and tried to rid his mind of worries to reach a trance state. Occlumency and Divination had been good groundwork for this, but Harry still had trouble reaching the appropriate state of mind. He'd been outdoors nearly an hour before he felt the calm of a decent trance state come over him.

In this state, he gently probed the world around him, eyes still closed, reaching out only with his mind, trying to grasp the ebb and flow of the magic that saturated the world around him. It wasn't hard...mostly because Hogwarts and its surrounding environs were utterly awash in raw magic.

From there he extended a hand calmly, and tried to manipulate just a little of the stuff that comprised magical energy. He wasn't really attempting to use it, just draw it into him and then slowly let it go. This was the second half of his exercise; one he would be repeating for days if the grimoire was any indication of the discipline it required.

It wasn't as hard as Harry had imagined, although at this early stage he knew right away that only long practice would make him able to do this in combat. He 'felt' energy flowing to him and into him...albeit quite slowly. It left him tingling, with a certain atavistic chill down his spine. Gooseflesh rose on his limbs while he held in the raw magic for a full minute, then let it slowly flow out of him and back into Hogwarts' grounds. After repeating the exercise almost a dozen times, he finally slipped out of his trance and stood up. He walked back to Hermione and Ron with a sense of accomplishment, however small, because at least he was doing SOMETHING that would bear fruit in the war to come. That made any amount of effort well worth while.

Ron and Hermione had been assigned as combatants for Harry's team, with Draco as their group's healer and site keeper. The two of them had already visited their Portkey site and checked the supplies. It turned out that, if an attack was signaled for Hogsmeade, they would wind up Portkeying into a small shop's storeroom adjacent to a quiet alley.

From there, Ron and Hermione would flank Harry as soon as they checked the streets and determined Voldemort's location. On the way to supper, they chatted over spell lists and effective tactics, but Harry drifted out of the conversation as soon as they made it to the Great Hall.

As soon as they were through the doors, Harry thanked his friends for their help and made a beeline for the table where Draco waited for him. No one begrudged him his time with Draco or his state of distraction whenever his boyfriend was near. That was just the way it was.

Draco was smiling as soon as he saw Harry walking his way. Harry was pleased just to see a plate in front of Draco with a worthwhile helping of food on it. He was happy to see Draco with an appetite again, but privately cursed himself for a horny bastard when he instantly found himself hoping that 'other' appetites were returning soon as well.

He knew he should just be happy Draco was feeling better...the notion of demanding anything Draco wasn't ready to give made Harry almost sick with shame. He could wait as long as he had to. Draco didn't need any stress at a time like this, and Harry would be damned before he was going to be the source of any!

Draco leaned in for a quick kiss, then immediately pressed Harry for details on his first exercise session. "Spill, love! I sooo want to hear how it went. You look pretty happy, so I'm assuming you didn't accidently blow anything up...gimme details!" Draco's cheerfulness was infectious, and quickly took the edge off Harry's momentary lapse into angst.

"It wasn't half as hard as I thought. Getting into a trance was the hardest part; after that it all came so easy. Still, hard to imagine doing it while people are throwing curses at me. Mostly, I just felt energy around me for the first time, and then I managed to manipulate it a little, you know? Like Levitation practice, when you learn to carefully float things...except with this, it's just raw magic, and you pull it in and out of yourself. I'm just happy it went well. I ought to be able to try something new before the week's up, at this rate!"

Harry tucked into a plate piled high with his favorites (which, for Harry, meant almost everything that couldn't crawl away in time to escape his busy fork.)

"Bravo, boyfriend! I knew you'd make this work. Just so you know, while you're with Snape tomorrow I'll be visiting Azkaban to see my father." Draco cut off Harry's worried look with a raised hand. "Don't worry, Harry...I'll be fine. This I can handle. You've got things to do and so do I. Doesn't mean I don't need you, just means I can deal 'til I get home and can curl up with you for awhile."

Harry was skeptical, but took Draco at his word. That's what boyfriends should do...and Harry was beginning to realize that, with the exception of only a few circumstances, he trusted Draco implicitly. He worried about things like Draco taking on too much or getting hurt, but other than that he had complete faith in his lover's judgement. It was sobering to think of, given that Harry had never had this close a relationship with any human being before Draco.

They chatted amiably; met Ron and Hermione for a short translation session in their suite, sat up and scrupulously copied the notes from the grimoire, then worked on the mound of homework that had piled up around them. It was later than normal when they finally crawled into bed and, despite their best efforts to snog each other silly, they still drifted into slumber before they could do anything more.

Tuesday was a blur of activity from beginning to end. Both boys found themselves running to keep up with their classload and additional duties. By the time Draco left for the Ministry and Azkaban, they were both flustered and half dead on their feet from a day that still wasn't over.

At least they managed a decent snog in the hall outside Snape's classroom, but there just wasn't time for more. Draco gave his love to Harry and started on his way, as Harry turned to face the classroom where a new headache was sure to be born. Snape might be a bit mellower lately, but he was no pushover when it came to teaching. Two hours never looked so long.

At least Occlumency and Legilimency practice ended on a fair note. Harry was finally getting through Snape's defenses one try out of every ten. Given that Snape was an Occlumens of exceptional talent with twenty years practice, it was a lot to be proud of.

Then came the study of the notes he and the others had made from the grimoire. Snape taught him technical terms that were rare even for most wizards. Legernorm the Wise had been brilliant, and his writing reflected a level of accomplishment beyond most wizard's caliber.

There was a lot more Harry would have to learn over the coming weeks, but at least now he understood enough to work on some new exercises with Hermione. When it was over, he thanked a tired and grumpy Snape, and headed to his room with thoughts of curling around Draco and collapsing as his only comfort.

Draco fared little better. Ministry policy generally forbade any gifts to Azkaban prisoners. The added security meant that, even with Shacklebolt's support, the jewel had to be checked by half a dozen Ministry officials, and the whole process took over an hour and a half. Only then was he allowed to be Portkeyed to Azkaban and actually visit his father's cell.

Shacklebolt led him down the dim hallways of weathered grey stone and through the mazes of locked doors and stairs. Finally, they reached a single wooden door at which Kingsley stopped. He withdrew a heavy keyring, and eventually unlocked and opened the door for the younger Malfoy. Draco stepped into the cell. It was barbaric. Squalor at its worst. A bowl for food, a bucket for waste and a straw pallet for a bed. 

Curled in a corner, in ragged clothes and a filthy blanket, was a wretched figure with long and dishevelled blond hair, rocking back and forth in numb silence. Draco stepped into the stinking gloom and knelt down beside the sorrowful creature that was his sire.

"Father? I brought something for you...a gift. Something you said you wanted. It's right here." Draco tried to hand the man the jewel, but no response was forthcoming...only Lucius' glassy eyes flicked his way, then the rocking continued unabated. Draco looked to Shacklebolt for some kind of help...but Kingsley could only shake his head apologetically. The Kiss did this to all of them in the end. Even the strongest rarely lasted more than month after the sentence was concluded.

Draco wasn't ready to quit just yet. "Daddy? It's Draco...your son...your heir...I want you to look at this...just once. If you like it, you can have it." Draco held the jewel before Lucius' vacant eyes and let the flickering images catch the man's attention. "See? That's you, and Mother, and there we are in the gardens...you like?"

Lucius' gaze fell upon the twinkling jewel with awe. His mouth was slack and a few drops of drool slid from his chin... but he stopped rocking. He gazed into the depths of the spelled jewel with rapt fascination...then reached slowly for it. Draco let him take the jewel into his filthy palm. Lucius held the jewel like it was an infant, staring into it, wide-eyed and trembling. 

"That's it...you wanted something to remember. Harry and I made it for you. I'm glad you like it. I have to go soon. I know you can't answer, but I wanted you to know that I love you. Mother missed you terribly and she'll be waiting for you when you're ready. Don't be afraid. Goodbye, Papa." Draco bent down and kissed his father on the brow, turned, and left the shattered and silent husk of Lord Malfoy behind. Shacklebolt turned the key in the lock and sealed the door. Then they made their way back through the long halls of Azkaban to home.

What neither of them could have heard was the harsh and croaking voice of Lucius Malfoy in the middle of the night, reciting two words, like a mantra for absolution, over and over again. The words he murmured in darkness were these: 

"...my son...my son...my son."


	41. Testing 1...2...3

A/N: Special Beta-love/thanks to Scully! 

"All I Ever Wanted"....Chap. 41 'Testing 1...2...3'

 

Draco came home much later than planned, but Harry woke when he walked in the door and promptly leaned up for a kiss. He'd curled up around Draco's pillow just after ten, quietly praying that Draco'd had an easy time of it, visiting his father. Draco kissed him back needily, passing the silent message that it had been hard going at Azkaban, and when they broke free for air, he begged apology and headed for the bathroom. 

"Sorry I'm so late, the Ministry checked that jewel seven ways from Sunday. I can only imagine how long they'd have kept at it if it hadn't been for Kingsley vouching for me."

"S'aright, love. Not to pry...but did your father...you know," Harry let the question hang, his voice trailing off. He knew it was a sensitive subject.

"Yeah...I think he recognized me. As much as he could, anyway. He did like the jewel...I told him we made it together. Not that I think it sunk in enough for him to understand. Harry...I'll be back out in a few. I just really, really need to clean the stink of that cell off of me with a decent shower. Fucking barbaric hellhole. I'm not saying they should keep prisoners in four star accommodations, but it's truly foul down there." Draco peeled off his robes and kissed Harry one last time before heading for the shower.

Harry let relief wash over him. Since the episode after Narcissa's death, he'd been really worried about Draco's coping skills, but Draco was starting to sound like himself again. Confident and decisive, capable of dealing with whatever came his way. 

Harry listened quietly to the splashing sounds from the shower, breathing in the faint scent of Draco's shampoos and aromatic soaps. Even with their brutal workload, life was slowly returning to normal. That was all Harry could ask for...anything more was sheer luck. He was nodding off to sleep when Draco finally joined him in bed.

Draco slipped beneath the sheets and curled around Harry, still hot from the shower, and smelling like an exotic garden from his products. Harry yawned and settled in for a comfortable goodnight kiss. The kiss, however, lingered. It didn't seem as though Draco was going to let him end it anytime soon, and just as Harry was beginning to worry that his rapidly responding libido would put pressure on Draco for more than he was ready to give, the soft, warm hand that had been pressed gently against Harry's chest slowly slid down to his pajamas.

Harry almost whimpered when he felt that gentle hand begin stroking the frantic erection straining against his underclothes. Draco broke their kiss only to begin working his mouth along Harry's neck...down his collarbone...and eventually back up to the sensitive spot just behind Harry's left ear. 

"Harry," came the throaty whisper, "I want you...I need you. Make love to me...slowly...make it last...please?"

Harry didn't waste words answering; he simply rolled closer to Draco and took over, intent on slaking every hunger he'd endured for almost a week. Harry lavished attention on every part of Draco, his hands tracing a message of worship upon the sensitive medium of Draco's skin...all the while using his mouth and tongue to equally good effect. 

They rolled and curled and wove in and out of one another's limbs for the better part of the hour, until Draco became impatient to get Harry's pajamas off. Naked at last, Harry still wasn't inclined to simply abandon their foreplay. Now he just moved it a bit lower. Harry's ministrations left his lover panting...whimpering...and softly cursing with teary-eyed hunger.

Harry poured himself into his task, devoting every fiber of his being to pleasing his lover. Draco received no mercy from the devilish tongue that would briefly offer satisfaction, and then pull away to tease yet another part of his body. He made no complaints, just gave himself completely over and let Harry taunt him into a state of near delirium, while he groaned and sighed and whispered his approval.

Draco was face down, head almost buried in pillows and rumpled sheets. This kept his cries of pleasure to a dull roar while Harry's tireless tongue cruelly labored behind him. 

Finally Draco felt the shift of weight on the bed as Harry reached for the nightstand. His body shook with relief and anticipation. Gods, but he'd needed this! So long without a lusty thought was unnatural for him, but this past week had been sheer hell. Harry's slick fingers drove any further musings from his mind, and he was soon wriggling and pushing himself onto them, physically begging for more. The fingers slipped away and a second later a familiar heat and pressure sought ingress. 

Draco shifted muscles, pushing outward and back, murmuring blessings and curses to himself while he strained against the warmth and thickness sliding into him. Soon, Harry was completely inside of him, and the fullness that he'd ached for so desperately was his at last. Harry's chest was draped comfortably across his back...and his lover's teeth were gently nipping the nape of his neck between kisses. Draco's own cock was painfully erect and cramped between the sheets and his stomach, but at this moment, he truly did not care.

Harry began to move ever so slowly. Long, gentle strokes that effortlessly glided in and out of Draco's body. His pace was flawless. Time slid by them without notice while Draco languished on the border of repletion.

Despite the days apart, there was no urgency between them...just Draco's hungry acceptance and Harry's tempered and patient desire to please. Draco felt the twitches and shudders, the sudden hitch in Harry's pace, and the random flexing of the erection buried inside him. Harry faltered only a minute at most, then...still erect, he started the same pace anew. Draco sighed in contentment, lazily soaking up every luxury that Harry offered.

When it was very, very late indeed, Draco finally allowed himself satisfaction, letting his mind drift in waves of pleasure until the insistent throb of his own erection gave way to shuddering spurts onto the sheets below him. Harry felt the change and brought himself to the edge in seconds, laying his sweating brow on Draco's back while he shook with the final release of his own seed. 

After a few moments of gasping for breath, giggling and laughing in happy contentment, and whispering affectionate words to each other, Harry slipped free of Draco and rolled down beside him, running his hand through Draco's hair. "Gods, I've missed you, love...like this...after it all...there's no part of you I don't adore. That was... amazing."

Draco blushed slightly. "You did the amazing part, love. I just enjoyed myself thoroughly along the way. I hadn't really noticed how badly I needed that. I just haven't...well...you know...been myself lately. Just trust me...I needed that every bit as badly as you did."

Sleep found them easily in the aftermath of intercourse, both of them sleeping as peacefully and as deeply as infants. Wednesday crept to its start faster than they wanted and the magic 'alarm' that called them to wake was an annoying and insistent buzz that they both wished to ignore. 

Draco crawled out of bed, tired, but feeling better than he had in some time, and made his way blearily to the bathroom. Even after his shower, Harry was still dozing, so Draco took the matter in hand...quite literally, in fact. They may have missed breakfast, but at least they started the day with matching smiles that didn't wear off until they were knee deep in homework much later that afternoon.

The weeks crawled by with agonizing slowness. The rising tide of studies and papers and tests took their toll. The tutoring program and other Slytherin House changes demanded much of Draco's time, and Harry struggled with the new magic at his command, mastering it with painstaking slowness. 

They had small gatherings with friends, and occasional breaks, but the bulk of their time was claimed by their duties. The one bright aspect of their often tedious days was the satisfaction of their mutually overactive sex drives. However tense and tired they were, there simply wasn't a day that passed that they couldn't find time to sate their lust for one another. 

Aside from attending the Slytherin hosted parties, and personally tutoring a couple of students, Draco found another time consuming task on his plate: estate management. The paperwork for the management of the Malfoy estate was being owled to him each week. Thankfully, he'd been tutored in the rigors of estate management every summer since he was fourteen, and was more than ready for the task; it just ate up a little more time from an already busy schedule.

Harry reached a peak of skill in Occlumency so high that even Snape had to growl out compliments. There was no more to be taught, and Harry would have an Occlumency license upon graduation. It opened possibilities for after the war, either as an Auror or as a Healer for St. Mungo's. In the meantime, he'd achieved a state of mental peace and confidence he'd never possessed before, and it was an enormous aid in his new research. At long last, he'd mastered all of the practice exercises for handling magical energy and the time had come for heavier research.

Hermione and Ron waited under a tree while Harry prepared to cast his first 'amplified' spell. They'd chosen the lakeside as an acceptable environment, mostly to ensure a safe distance between Harry and any living creature...just in case. Not that Harry hadn't shown exceptional skill in his practice, but there were stern warnings in the grimoire regarding the potential mishaps that came from releasing raw magic into a spell without careful control.

Although Harry would never admit it, the faint risk of mishap played a part in his decision to time their first spell test while Draco was at his busiest. Professor McGonagall, however, was observing from the her window, despite a fairly busy schedule, and had ordered the grounds cleared of students during the first test.

With concentration and skill, any wizard or witch could cast a spell and make it more effective. Infusing raw magical energy into the mix would make even the simplest spells many times more powerful. Therefore, they were limited in the choice of spells Harry could safely use for practice.

In the end, Hermione and Professor McGonagall had decided on 'Lumos' as the safest spell to start with. Little, if any, harm could be done by a mishap with a first-year spell for producing light. Just to be sure, however, they had all donned sunglasses with heavily tinted lenses. 

Prior to casting the spell, Harry gathered energy for some ten or fifteen minutes; the effort made his hair stand on end. He felt vaguely like a live wire when he held in magic without letting it go, which was slightly distracting. It caused him to have several false starts where he would raise his wand, then lose control of the stored energy and feel it drain away. Then he'd have to start over from the top. 

After almost half an hour, he finally got it right. With a flick of his wand, he uttered, "Lumos" while releasing the stored magic through his wand...and the effect was a bit more than they had predicted.

Light exploded from Harry's wand, and for all intents and purposes, Harry appeared to be sitting at the center of a small and heatless sun. Had it been night, it likely could have been seen from space and would have been noticed on the horizon from nearly any direction in England or Scotland. Minerva McGonagall wound up stumbling around her office, momentarily blinded, and uttering several remarks that made her portraits blush and step out to visit friends for a while.

Harry's eyes were screwed shut, but the light was still blinding, even through his shades. Slightly stunned, Harry finally gathered just enough energy to cast an amplified 'Nox', then collapsed back onto the ground, his eyes blinking and tearing. He heard rather than saw Hermione and Ron come running up.

"Harry! Are you okay?! That was incredible! We still need to work on control...maybe work out ways for you to gauge how much you put into a spell, but that was fantastic!" Hermione was bubbling over with excitement.

Ron couldn't contain himself and burst out, "Fucking Merlin, mate! Good thing you didn't try a Warming Spell first! You'd 'ave turned Scotland into the fucking Sahara! Brilliant! Once you've got a grip on this, You Know Who's toast! Maybe even literally!"

Harry felt fairly enthused, if a little tired. They called it quits for the day, out of respect for the slight headache Harry felt coming on, but none of them noticed something far subtler. At Harry's left temple, three hairs had turned the color of purest silver.


	42. Sorrow And Solace

"All I Ever Wanted"....Chap. 42 'Sorrow And Solace'

 

Lucius Malfoy rocked in his cell, save for when he slept or ate, and soon he lost even the strength to rock. After that, the will to eat soon left him as well. One morning, the jewel he'd clutched so desperately, and stared into so intently, slid from his hand and tumbled to the floor. A fluttering sensation in his chest troubled him little, as his mind was almost gone, and the knowledge of anything less than great pain was quite beyond him.

He leaned forward and reached for the jewel but, for some reason, it escaped his grasp. He stood and looked about, suddenly realizing that the shabby husk curled on the floor had once been his body. So much was clear now; so many things no longer mattered. If he could have drawn breath, he'd have sighed with relief. His time was over. There had been much to regret, but there had also been so very much to treasure.

There were people calling to him; voices he hadn't heard in years, and one that was more recent...achingly familiar...Narcissa. The sound of it was like music; like nothing he'd ever heard before, and yet wonderfully comforting. He was going home; where he belonged, where he had been missed, and would suffer no more of the world's indignities.

He gave a last well-wish to the world he'd dwelt in so briefly, looked one last time at the wreckage that had once been his spirit's home, then drifted away as casually as if he were taking a stroll in the park. Had he possessed the flesh and bone for such a thing, a smile would have been upon his face as he left the world behind for good.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The letter came at breakfast with the usual owl post. Draco signaled Harry with a pained glance, and they left the table without as much as a word between them. When they reached their suite, they sat at the table while Draco opened the letter he'd known would soon come. Harry remained silent beside his lover, painfully aware of Draco's jangled nerves.

Seconds later, Draco put the opened parchment down and sighed. "It's over. Last night...they found him this morning. He's finally free."

Despite Harry's worst fears, Draco held up well, a few quiet tears into Harry's shoulder and it was past. Draco had been well prepared for this loss. In truth, he felt as though his father had died the day he received the Kiss. Lucius Malfoy had ceased to live weeks before his actual death and, though Draco mourned him anew, it was a far gentler sorrow than the shock of his mother's passing.

Draco penned a series of letters and made a list of things he'd have to see to for his father's funeral, then parted company with Harry for the day, after a few lingering and needy kisses for support. 

The remains of the week passed in a blur. Letters of condolence came daily, Floo calls were made, and orders placed. A tiny handful of invitations were sent out, and participants for this far quieter funeral were notified. It would be a short and dignified affair as Draco planned it. No viewing and no wake, but formal and thorough none the less. 

Harry took over Draco's DADA tutoring for Slytherin students who, being mostly first and second-years, actually listened intently to the dark haired, scar-marked, 'Legend of the Wizarding World'. All well and good, but still slightly embarrassing for Harry.

Pansy and Blaise picked up the rest of Draco's duties in spite of the seventh-year workload that burdened them all, which left Harry just enough time to keep practicing 'amplified spells' in the little private time he had left.

Dumbledore sent a brief flurry of owls before losing contact suddenly and completely, leaving Minerva McGonagall a nervous wreck. While her exterior was as placid and collected as ever, those who knew her well could see the strain of command eating away at her. She still found the time and strength to drill the Order on its emergency Apparition points, fallback plans, safe houses and battle tactics. In the midst of this she even found a safe spell research room in a well reinforced part of the castle, just for Harry.

There, Harry spent nearly every evening after supper working on finer control of the skills he had already mastered. He'd reached the point where a simple Warming Spell could be augmented without accidentally creating a tropical zone in the heart of Scotland, and was rapidly working through his best known spells. 

Harry's counter-spells had become extremely formidable, as they could be easily practiced without harming students, and he had the sneaking suspicion that, if he tried hard enough, he could probably dispel or block anything a Death Eater could cast.

His hexes and curses could affect whole areas rather than single targets, and his Expelliarmus had become a force to be reckoned with. Ron had been his dueling partner for an outdoor session, and had wound up being thrown across the grounds and into the lake.

In spite of having to remove a fish and several slimy weeds from his soaked clothes, Ron maintained a cheerful disposition. No one really enjoys being a practice dummy, but it was a rather exciting way to help Harry, and that was enough for Ron.

The last day before Lucius' funeral, Harry sat alone in the spell research room with a list of new exercises from Hermione and Professor McGonagall. It was nice to have a little time alone, even in a basement corner of the castle. He knew he should be working as quickly as he could, but just this once he sat in trance and let his thoughts drift.

The last month had been hard, and occasionally downright exhausting, but now Harry had a sense of optimism that had once eluded him. So many things had changed in such a short time. Draco lit his life's path like a guiding star. He had a solid grasp on the magical technique that might make his final meeting with Voldemort a matter of short work. Slytherin House was slowly phasing into a normal social life with other houses, and Harry was even holding his grades up comfortably above the average, with a few exceptionally high marks as well. 

His vision of Draco's death still crossed his mind, but he was fairly sure that Draco would take no chances, and visions were notoriously fickle in any case. Harry knew his own fears intimately now. Occlumency had helped him to know and master every part of his own mind, and the confidence and calm that came with that knowledge had smoothed his path through a month of tumultuous events. 

In just another month, there would be a grand banquet and Leaving Ball for his year. A week after that, his school days would be done forever, and a life with Draco at the heart of it would begin.

Harry idly wondered what would have happened if he'd taken that offered hand on the train. Would he have been inclined to join Slytherin? Would Snape have terrified and tormented him so constantly? Would he and Draco have been a couple for years by now instead just a couple of months? How different would Draco's life have been if he'd had a friend who cared for him unconditionally, always by his side, from the first day of school? 

It was pure woolgathering, and Harry knew it, but he let a few more minutes slide by while he ruminated on things that could have been. With a soft sigh of resignation, Harry raised his wand and went back to practicing new spells, counter-curses and hexes. When he was fairly sure he'd at least learned the basics, he folded his notes, pocketed his wand and headed back to the suite where his lover was waiting for him.

Tomorrow would bring a sorrowful occasion, but this time Draco was in a good place emotionally, and able to cope with what was coming. That security took the edge off Harry's nerves more than anything else could have.

Draco waited for Harry in the suite that was their home, laboring his way through a pile of homework and estate paperwork that threatened to do serious harm if it fell onto him. It seriously annoyed him that so much was required of his time when he needed it for himself so very badly, but he had to admit that he'd set himself up for most of it, and there was scarcely anything to be done for the rest. 

Just a couple of months and he'd have much of this out of the way. No more classes and texts, no more Slytherin duties and endless paperwork, just a well settled estate to manage, and a lover to lavish his attention upon. If this stupid war would just hurry up and be done with, a life of peace, and uninterrupted sex with the man of his dreams, would be his to enjoy. This maddening, end-of-school-soon pace was devouring their time together (not to mention the sudden departure of his parents.) 

Draco sat back and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds, blinking while his eyes teared. He was fine, just fine. He'd known this was coming; no reason not to be ready for it. This time he'd even planned everything himself. Snape had checked over his arrangements, and agreed to perform the service and give the eulogy for Lucius. Everything was in order...there wasn't any need for tears.

They came anyway. Draco indulged himself in one last bout of tears, punctuated by short, barking laughs at the painful irony of it all. Then he wiped his face clean, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up with a decent shower before Harry got back.

He lingered in the shower a bit longer than was strictly necessary, but it did his mood a world of good. He could hear Harry rattling about outside as he was drying off, and he wiped the mirror clean of steam and looked carefully as he groomed himself.

The boy in the mirror was unquestionably beautiful, but there was a subtle difference. Just a few months ago, that face had been so carefully schooled to appear neutral or disdainful, never sad or happy. Today, Draco saw himself looking so terrifyingly real, so nakedly honest, that it was almost frightening. 

Everything had changed so much, so quickly, that his current life scarcely resembled his past. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom quietly. Harry looked up from his own studies and smiled broadly.

Harry looked at the faint wisps of steam rising off of Draco's cooling skin, and felt a familiar surge of blood to his groin. That criminally perfect expanse of pale skin was right in front of him, but with the gravity of tomorrow's event in front of them, Harry would never make demands for anything without a very clear invitation. Didn't mean he wasn't thinking of it, but he could curb his hormones for a little longer if he had to.

How fortunate for Harry that he didn't have to...and mostly because Draco was struck by the similarity to their first conscious encounter, and it was creating a sudden disturbance just under his towel. He smirked at Harry and slowly winked. "You pig! I wasn't in that shower nearly long enough to get the stink of you off of me!" Then he stuck his tongue out.

Harry was out of his chair a second later, slowly stalking Draco across the room like a panther, grinning maniacally. "I can't believe I...I can't believe this...this happened...", Harry couldn't fight off the urge to giggle, but kept going, "I waited and waited and now…now it's all just a fucking waste!" 

Draco bolted for the bed with a quick feint to the left, but Harry wasn't fooled and swiftly had Draco in his arms, mock struggling while Harry kissed his way down that silky collarbone, each hungry kiss leaving faint redness that slowly vanished as he began the next. Draco melted into the arms around him. He felt like purring, then a kiss would change into a bite and his body would arch while he gasped.

The towel found its way to the floor before another minute passed, and Draco ground his arse against the familiar bulge in Harry's slacks, knowing full well how crazy it was driving the dark haired boy behind him. It was only a matter of minutes before they were tangled around each other on the bed, feverishly touching each other in every way that came to mind. They hadn't even made it a full five minutes before Draco bit Harry's ear and, with a whisper full of raw need and almost crazed urgency, he uttered, "Harry...make me forget...make it all go away...just for tonight...be rough...for me." Then he bit down fiercely on Harry's neck, almost drawing blood, which was enough to send Harry's adrenal glands pulsing. 

Harry suffered from conflicting signals for a moment, but his respect for Draco's judgment and his aching need outweighed his petty neuroses about hurting his lover during sex. The bite on his neck tipped the balance and he grabbed the lubricant from the nightstand.

When both he and Draco were liberally coated and slick, Harry raised Draco's knees up and back until they were almost pressing against the blonde’s chest. Harry entered with his usual slow grace, even though his body was nearly quivering with the desire to thrust deeply into the pliant softness beneath him.

He held himself back admirably, and waited until Draco's hisses and gasps had subsided, but when grey eyes glared up at him, almost on fire with need, and a throaty drawl commanded him, "Merlin, just do it, love...NOW," it was enough to snap Harry's patience in twain. 

Harry was as silent as a stone, save for the sound of his labored breathing, as he quickly built to a pace he'd never reached before. Draco whimpered and moaned under him, still whispering tiny affirmations to placate Harry's fears, lest he slow his wicked pace even a hair. Gaining confidence, Harry gripped his hands firmly around Draco's ankles and pulled them up and wide apart in a V, coincidentally lifting Draco's lower back almost a half foot off the bed. 

Draco drifted in a wonderful sense of weightless surrender, half his body almost literally suspended by his ankles, savoring the mind-clearing savagery of Harry's thrusts. Pain was sparkling behind his eyes, and his vision kept blurring at random, but he never relented.

This...this exquisite violation...was precisely what he wanted. His own cock was bouncing and weeping trails of pre-come onto his stomach as Harry pounded into him. It wouldn't last at this pace, but what a ride! His universe contracted and exploded every few seconds...and Harry was the omnipotent god that created and destroyed it.

Harry's eyes were fixed sternly on Draco's face, watching for any sign of real pain, while he unleashed the most brutal pace they had ever allowed themselves. He couldn't hold back for long like this, but he was gritting his teeth and trying save himself until he achieved his goal.

Harry's lips curled into a grin when Draco's muscles began to tense and shift around him. That beautiful face was contorted in a shameless mask of ecstasy...tears streaming down pale cheeks. The swollen and leaking member that had been bouncing in front of Harry for the last ten minutes suddenly stiffened sharply, and spurted out of control, streaking Draco's chest and stomach with droplets of white, while Draco's throaty groans transformed into a deafening screech.

That was all there was for it, the sight of Draco's orgasm finished Harry in seconds, though his was quieter and more controlled. He kept his rough pace through the final bursts of his and Draco's respective orgasms, then let the slim legs he'd held slip slowly from his grasp.

He slid himself free of Draco's limp and exhausted body and curled beside his almost comatose lover, kissing the tears from his cheeks. While Draco was still recovering, Harry cast a couple of elementary Cleaning Spells...wandlessly, just to keep his practice up.

After several silent minutes had passed with Harry just idly stroking his boyfriend's hair, he got up the nerve to ask after Draco's well being. He didn't want to be a mother hen, but...well...he really had been rough!

"Draco? You still in there, love?" Harry let a nervous chuckle out when he saw the grey eyes slowly shift his way.

"Mmm-hm," was all a wide-eyed Draco could manage at the moment, but at least that was something. Harry quietly adjusted the sheets and pillows and made them ready for bed, carefully slipping Draco into place and tucking him in before curling up beside him.

Harry could see gratitude in his lover's eyes, as well as a certain pacific calm that Draco often had after sex. He figured he'd done his job as a boyfriend fairly well and, even without conversation after sex, he was thoroughly content. 

With a little luck, the afterglow Draco felt would take the edge off the proceedings at Malfoy Manor tomorrow. Harry was every bit as tired as Draco, and was asleep in minutes, missing the faint and garbled 'Thank you' that Draco uttered before passing out, numb and exhausted, in Harry's loose embrace.


	43. Of Lilies And Vows

Author's Note: This chapter was brought to you by: Van Morrison's album "T.B. Sheets"

"All I Ever Wanted".....chap. 43 'Of Lilies And Vows'

 

The funeral of Lucius Malfoy, formerly Lord Malfoy, passed with somber dignity and little fanfare. Draco wandered through the day in a haze, partly induced by the savagery of the previous night's love making. Harry worried for his now orphaned lover, but despite watching closely, he saw no sign of imminent breakdown by Draco.

When the few invited guests had left, and Lucius was safely at rest in the family mausoleum, Draco and Harry sat quietly in one of the drawing rooms, just curled together in silence, for a few minutes of peace. Draco hadn't spoken more than a few terse farewells to their guests in the last hour, but sighed heavily and nestled into Harry's arms before he finally spoke again.

"That's it. It's all ours, Harry. I didn't want it to happen like this, but it's over. The only thing I have left...that would hurt to lose...is you." Draco turned his head just enough to kiss Harry's neck, then burrowed a little closer.

Harry was silent for a moment before answering. "There are an awful lot of people who love you, you know? Not quite like I do, but that doesn't mean they're not family of a sort. Snape, Blaise, Pansy, Greg and Vincent, the Weasleys and Hermione. The Dursleys were never my family, even though I grew up with them. My only real family are the people I care about. Don't ever think that it's just you and me, love."

Draco let another sigh escape. "You're right. Someday, after this war is over, I'd like to hold parties in the garden. Have our friends all come over and just see this place bustling again. Mum would've loved that." Try as he might, Draco couldn't shake the fear that he'd never feel the same about the Manor again, now that his parents weren't here and waiting to see him.

Harry had an odd idea, and after a few minutes of careful thought, he shared it. "I know this might sound strange, and I don't know if the timing is off for you, but what would you say to visiting the place where my parents were buried. I go there sometimes. I always went alone before, but now I want you with me. I'll never be able to introduce you to them properly, but I go there and tell them about my life, and now you're the most important thing in my life. I want to share that with them the only way I can. Would you be okay with that?"

Draco gave it a little consideration. Strangely enough, the notion didn't offend him. It was important to Harry, and that made it important to him. "Yes, actually, I'd kind of like to see it. You told me about Godric's Hollow before, but I didn't know you went there...for that. I'll take some flowers from the garden, if you'd like?"

"We've got all of today off from class. You don't mind Side-Along Apparition, do you? I know the way and we could be there and back to Hogwarts in plenty of time. The flowers would be a great idea. I never took any before, but I think my mum would have liked them." Harry kissed the top of Draco's head. "I love you more than I know how to say, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Some things…words just don't cover. The way I feel about you is one of them. Come on, let's get out of here and hit the gardens. We'll get some flowers and take off. I don't want to be here right now, and this 'Godric's Hollow' would be a nice change of pace. On the way out, we need to pause a minute. Before we leave, I'm keying the wards for the Manor to recognize you. It'll only take a little concentration, then we can Apparate from inside the Manor anytime we want."

The boys took their coats and dress robes, then drifted through the gardens, stopping only to gather flowers before they reached the gates. Draco held Harry's hand, raised his wand, and uttered a few brief and unfamiliar incantations. When he was finished, he took a deep breath. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Harry. It's half yours, now. You're the only person not legally a Malfoy to ever hold control of them. There's never been another."

Harry took that knowledge in for a few seconds, then smirked. "I'm proud, but that faint tremor I feel beneath my feet must be from several hundred Malfoys spinning like tops in their collective graves."

Draco punched him on the arm, then hugged Harry so hard it almost hurt. "Prat. You're impossible, Harry. I'd hex you stupid...if you weren't there already! Let's go."

Harry raised his wand and thought of his destination. With an audible pop, they Apparated their way to Godric's Hollow. As soon as they had their bearings, they both noticed the dark clad figure kneeling before James and Lily Potter's graves. A handful of lilies had been placed between the two graves, and when the stranger turned to see who had arrived, Draco and Harry realized that they were staring eye to eye with Severus Snape.

The professor looked quite irritated about being interrupted at such a private moment, but propriety wouldn't allow him to offer harsh words under these circumstances. Harry, on the other hand, was dumbstruck for several seconds. 

Snape walked the distance between them and spoke softly. "I suppose it was inevitable. Meeting here, that is. Did you think you were the only one who mourned here, Harry?"

"Well, I guess...but...why?" Harry's breath was a little short. The notion of Severus Snape mourning at his parent's gravesite was a little more than he could take in easily.

Severus seated himself on an old stone bench and stared up at the clouds. "Sit down. You as well, Draco. This may take a bit of time to tell, and I have no desire to discuss it twice. I don't even wish to speak this once, but I admit, it's probably long overdue."

Harry and Draco seated themselves, still rattled by the professor's comparatively pleasant tone of voice. Draco's hand was still in Harry's while they waited for Snape to start. The professor would not look directly at them, but began talking even as he still stared at the sky.

"Parts of this you may already know, Harry. Our delvings into Legilimency and Occlumency granted you the opportunity to see things I have shared with no one. You may appreciate that knowledge a little more when I am finished.

Harry, there is no easy way to say this, but your mother was my first and only love. There was no girl in Hogwarts even remotely like her, and I adored her from a distance for seven years. I think...I think she knew how I felt, but I was an awkward boy. I lacked the social graces or popularity that James Potter seemed to possess in abundance.

Your father, despite having so many things that could have better occupied his time, seemed to find tormenting me very amusing, and I loathed him more than I can possibly describe. The final insult was his courting of Lily. When they were wedded, well, suffice it to say that I became slightly unhinged.

I took the Dark Mark and allied myself with the man who embodied the very opposite of James Potter. He'd made my school years a living hell, and then he married the girl that I worshipped. I cannot apologize for what happened later; it is beyond apology, and my life since has been a labor of compensation for that horrible mistake.

Harry, I was the one who pressed The Dark Lord to kill your father. He was aware of my affection for Lily, and he might have spared her if she'd been willing to part with you. It was after he and the others had left that I realized what I'd done. I knew he'd never stop with just one killing, and that the irony of killing Lily as well would not escape him. I turned to Dumbledore for help. That was why you were found by the right people just after the Dark Lord was struck down. I became Dumbledore's agent in the Death Eater's ranks that very day, and have been ever since.

The last seventeen years have been an act of contrition for a crime of passion I committed a long time ago. I come here, not to make amends, for nothing I could do could make them, but to renew a vow. I promised to see her child destroy the Dark Lord, whatever the cost to myself. The lilies are three, one for each life that was destroyed that day. Your father's, Lily's, and mine."

Harry remained silent for a long time. Somewhere inside him a small voice raged that this man had been party to his parent's murder. The rest of Harry's mind reeled at Severus Snape's confession. The taciturn and sour professor who had always seemed to hate Harry, yet constantly strove to protect him, suddenly made so much more sense. He'd spent Harry's entire lifetime enduring torture and risking death, all to fulfill a vow he'd made to balance the harm he'd done. Harry finally mustered the nerve to speak.

"I saw...how my father was. I never knew him, and maybe some of that is your fault, but I was never ashamed of him until I saw him in your Pensieve memories. I never knew my mother, except for a photo and a few scraps of dreams from The Mirror Of Erised. Professor...it doesn't have to be now, but someday soon, would you tell me about her? I...I'd just like to know a little more about her, and if you'd help, I'd be grateful." Draco's hand tightened on Harry's. The subject of absent mothers was hard for both of them.

Severus Snape leaned back on the bench and sighed. "We shall see. There are limits to what I can speak of and still maintain my dignity. Perhaps, when you have graduated, I shall come by the Manor and we can discuss this at length. I'll tell you this before I take my leave. You have her eyes. If I have seemed harsh to you at times, it is because I cannot look at you without seeing her eyes...set in James Potter's face. 

When you first came to Hogwarts, I felt a hate for you I could scarcely contain. You were, and are, the living embodiment of what I lost, what I hated and what I caused to happen. I'm very tired, Harry. I hope you'll forgive me if I have nothing more to say. I wish to go home, and so I shall see you both tomorrow, in class. Farewell." Severus Snape stood and offered the briefest of bows. Then walked away until the soft crack of Apparition marked his departure.

The boys sat in amazed silence. Even Draco had never seen Snape share so much of his past in so comfortable a fashion. Perhaps it was the funeral of another of his old classmates. Perhaps it was the fact that Harry was now the lover of his godchild. Whatever it was, the professor had left them both stunned and slightly awed. They walked to the twin headstones that marked James and Lily's final resting place and stood together a moment. After a few seconds of restless waiting, Harry stepped forward and spoke.

"Mum, Dad. I know it's been a long while since I came by, but I've been really busy. It's been really hard sometimes, but I'm doing alright. I just wanted you to know I'm not alone. He's perfect, and I love him. I just wish you could have met him, but I wanted him here with me today, just to get to know you the way I do. 

Things are happening so fast that it's hard to keep track of them. I think the war is almost ready to break out. I promised I'd make the one who killed you pay, and I think I'll get the chance fairly soon. It might be a long time before I can come back and see you again, but I'll try to break away when I can. I love you...and don't worry about me, I've got someone really good watching my back. I'll see you again soon, I promise."

Harry stepped back and took Draco's hand again. Draco was smiling, but slightly embarrassed and misty-eyed. They started to walk back to the bench when Draco broke away for a moment and asked Harry to wait. Draco ran back to the twin plots and left his flowers behind, but lingered a second, his mouth moving clearly enough that Harry could tell he was speaking.

Draco walked back and took Harry's hand again, then they strolled through Godric's Hollow quietly for a few minutes.

Harry didn't want to be rude and ask outright, but he was desperately curious as to what Draco might have said. The question was written on his face, and Draco answered it just as they reached the point they had Apparated from. 

"I told them...I told them I'd make sure you were alright, and that if I failed, well, they'd be meeting us both sometime soon, because you're not going anywhere without me." Then he pulled Harry into a kiss that peeled away a lot of their dark mood. 

Eventually, they made their way to Hogwarts and back to their suite. Back to studies and war and plans for change. At least they knew that in the ocean of duties and worries in front of them, they had more than just each other to cling to. Carved from the flotsam and jetsam of life's cruel tides, they had a family.


	44. Chosen

"All I Ever Wanted"..... chap. 44 'Chosen'

 

With the passing of Lucius Malfoy behind them, the challenges of seventh year studies and the Order stole away the little time for reflection that was to be had. Draco had been studying additional Healing Spells for his new role in the Order's battle plan, and his schedule had already been booked with other duties.

If it hadn't been for Blaise and Pansy, he'd have dropped from exhaustion after a few days. His marks in Advanced Charms and Advanced Transfiguration were flagging a little, but at least his Advanced Potions and Defense Against The Dark Arts marks were still at the top of class.

Slytherin-hosted gatherings had become the school's favorite activity over the last few months, and Pansy was enjoying much of the credit for that success. A number of inter-house friendships were appearing among the younger students, and a handful of Slytherins were dating students from Ravenclaw (few wanted to follow Draco's turbulent footsteps in breaking the ultimate taboo...even if he had already shattered it beyond repair by openly dating Harry.) 

Blaise had a solid grip on leading the mentoring program; his natural charisma smoothed over a lot of wrinkles between cranky fourth-years who hadn't wanted first-years to lead about. Blaise's level of influence now rivaled Draco's, and yet, Zabini never abused that power.

Draco caught himself thinking that such a thing was very un-Slytherin...then checked himself, remembering that this was the whole point. A generation of students were being prepared for a life without the enmity, fear and deliberate cruelty that had once marked Slytherin as 'the house to be avoided'. Old habits died hard, but they were dying, slowly leaving room for something newer and better to take their place. 

Draco oversaw the tutoring personally. All the designated tutors answered to him, but once he'd paired problem students with gifted students, the rest was fairly easy. There had already been a sharp up tick in the number of house points granted to Slytherin for correct answers in classes, and that was very gratifying. 

Harry had helped enormously with the students who needed DADA assistance, but was a little embarrassed when he realized that Slytherin students were outperforming Gryffindor, in part because of him. That got a chuckle from Draco...the irony was delicious!

Draco's estate paperwork came weekly by owl post, but had dwindled to only routine matters that required a few minutes to resolve. A few signatures and commands, and Draco could manage the entire Malfoy estate from Hogwarts with little effort. This was just as well, since he then spent his evenings learning battlefield Healing Spells that were rarely studied by anyone not intent on becoming a medi-witch.

Healing was not Draco's strongest suit, but 'needs must when the devil drives'. Ron, Hermione and Harry would be needing him ready for battle, and there was no way to know when, so he made short work of every text Madam Pomfrey was able to spare.

On top of all of that, seventh-years were preparing for the formal Leaving Ball that marked the end of their studies at Hogwarts. NEWT examinations would be finished and final marks assessed; the students would breathe a sigh of collective relief, and then celebrate with a grand party, feast and formal dance, opening with the coronation ceremony for the classes own chosen King and Queen of Hogwarts.

NEWT examinations were nearly over, and a sense of giddy excitement had affected every student in their year. So close to freedom after seven years of studies; it was exhilarating! Draco could sense it in others, but he was too busy by far to enjoy himself properly. His only real comfort was the sliver of time left to himself and Harry.

War plans and studies ate up so much of their time that their libidos had flagged a bit over the last month, but barring complete exhaustion, at least their nights always ended in a tangle of soft limbs and hungry mouths, followed by the peaceful slumber of sated lovers.

For Harry's part, the time since Lucius' funeral had whirled past faster than he could remember. Draco's help with Potions had improved his marks in his worst class, and Snape was grudgingly satisfied with his performance. His improvement might also have had a little to do with not dreading the class with every fiber of his being anymore. Either way, things were better. 

With Occlumency mastered, save for independent study and practice to maintain and refine his skills, a little more time was his again, and he used that time as effectively as he could. 

Ron and Hermione had been acting as dueling partners for him, sometimes both at the same time. The basement room that McGonagall had provided gave them a safe and well-warded place to experiment, and Harry's control was deft enough that he could lightly 'amplify' spells without maiming his friends. The hardest part was maintaining control while both Ron and Hermione threw mild hexes at him. On a good day he could block anything they threw and still get a spell or two off in their direction, but most of the time he was too pressed defending himself to do much more. At least it was progress, but Harry wanted something a bit more concrete before he faced Voldemort.

Life had settled into a comfortable, if busy, routine. The only nagging concern that couldn't be addressed was Albus Dumbledore's telling absence. That had been worrying Harry for weeks, and there was nothing to be done for it but wait. Dumbledore wasn't just a teacher or mentor, he was Harry's closest council and friend. The fact that there were decades of difference in their ages hadn't changed a thing.

The old wizard had saved Harry's life a number of times, as well as, most recently, Harry's sanity. Not knowing if Albus was alive or dead was eating at Harry's nerves. He was determined not to mourn without a solid reason, or make any fatalistic assumptions, because Albus Dumbledore had narrowly escaped a hundred deaths and was a force to be reckoned with, never underestimated.

In the meantime, a harried Professor McGonagall led both Hogwarts and the Order of the Pheonix with a steady hand. Harry had never been as close to Minerva McGonagall as he'd been to Dumbledore, but his respect and affection for her was growing. Few people appreciated the pressure she was under as Harry or Severus did.

One bright moment that the last few weeks had offered up had been Harry's correspondence with Remus Lupin. The werewolf had finally finished his assignment for the Order and returned to Grimmaud Place for rest. Remus had taken it upon himself, as the last of the Marauders and best friend of Sirius, to act as godfather to Harry. In the absence of Albus Dumbledore, Remus' kind words and level-headed advice made Harry feel a little more secure.

The knowledge that, in a week or so, Lupin would become one of the Order's guardians assigned to Hogsmeade, was an even greater relief. Werewolf or not, Remus was one of the few people that Harry genuinely trusted to look out for Harry first, and the needs of the war second.

Harry was trudging his way back to the sixth floor and the suite that was their home in Hogwarts. More than anything, he wanted a tiny shred of quiet time with Draco. There hadn't been a lot excitement lately, but the rush to the end of the school year was starting to wear on his nerves. The little snippets of time he had with Draco were his panacea, his cure-all for every ill, and he needed them more than ever.

He was only a few hundred yards from his goal when Hermione met him on his way up the stairs, giddy, smiling and clutching a fancy envelope in her hand.

"Hurry up, Harry! I've got something you both have to read, and I'm not opening it until you're both present." Her eyes were twinkling worse than Dumbledore's. As happy as the occasion seemed to her, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit apprehensive. Excitement of any kind was not on his wish list at the moment.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Sorry if I'm a bit sluggish...just tired. Good news, I take it?"

"Better than good, but you'll see as soon as we get back to your rooms." 

Ron was fending off questions from Draco when they entered the suite, and looked very relieved when Harry and Hermione finally arrived. 

Draco grinned evilly, "Thank Merlin! Let's get this over with already, you know I hate secrets...unless I know them. If you'd taken any longer, I'd have had to use questionable means to extract the answers from Ron."

Ron nodded emphatically, "Bloody hell, 'Mione! Don't leave me alone with 'im and a secret again! He's...he's...rapacious...that's what! Like Fred and George when they get a new idea. I feel like I've been investigated by the Ministry, and it's only been ten minutes! I almost cracked...just to get a break. Just tell them so I can have a bit of peace."

Harry curiosity was finally peaked. "Alright, we're here. Let's have done with it then." At least he could be sure it wasn't bad news!

Hermione handed Draco the sealed envelope. Draco broke the wax Hogwarts crest and withdrew the sheet of neatly calligraphed parchment. A few seconds later, Draco was still sitting, holding the parchment, as still and quiet as the grave. Hermione was smiling and hovering anxiously, Ron was waiting quietly, and Harry was looking at Draco expectantly.

Finally, Draco looked up from the parchment and spoke. "Whose idea was this? Is this some lame Hufflepuff version of a prank? I have a special hex just for occasions like this!" 

Hermione's face fell. "You're not happy? It's not a joke, Draco. The class Prefects chose, and this is what they chose. I thought you'd be thrilled," she spluttered, still confused by Draco's reaction.

Harry broke in, "What the hell is 'IT'? I still haven't got a clue what this is about, remember?"

Draco shoved the parchment across the desk with a disgusted snort and a look that suggested it was made of raw sewage. "Here, have a look at what these maniacs have cooked up! How do you feel about Prefect for supper, love? It might take a while to roast them all over an open flame, but I'm sure I'll manage. What would you like as a side?" Draco's lips were tight, and his entire body was taut with irritation.

Harry read the parchment slowly, then dropped it and looked at Hermione and Ron. "You've got to be 'taking the piss', aren't you? This can't be for real? I'm not saying I'm against it, but this is almost too much."

"It's real, Harry. There's only one envelope like that given out each year, and this year, it's for you two. Congratulations, mates!" Ron beamed at Harry.

Draco turned to Harry sharply, "You're aren't actually thinking of letting them make this farce a reality, are you? This is a travesty of an idea...I want no part of it!" Silver eyes were blazing, demanding an answer.

"Really, love. C'mon, it's an honor. This is everybody's way of saying how they feel about us. It's sweet. I don't know what you're upset about, and don't be angry at them...they were trying do something for all the right reasons...honestly."

Hermione looked like she was going to cry any minute. She hadn't even considered the possibility of an angry Draco. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand! I thought you'd be so happy...and...and, what's wrong with it?"

Draco turned an ugly shade of red and stood up from the table. "WHAT'S WRONG? ARE YOU FUCKING DAFT?"

Harry stood up to intervene and calm his lover down. "Easy, love. It's not worth getting this angry over. They meant well, remember? I still don't see why you're so worked up over this."

"Of course, you don't see anything wrong with this lunacy," Draco hissed spitefully, "Because no one voted YOU to be the FUCKING 'QUEEN' OF HOGWARTS!!!" 

With that final outburst, Draco whirled and stomped his way into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him with a string of muffled curses.


	45. Sometimes It's Good

All I Ever Wanted.... chap.45 'Sometimes It's Good'

 

Harry quietly saw Ron and Hermione to the door, scarlet with embarrassment over Draco's outburst.

"Sorry, mates. I don't what this is about, but he's seriously pissed. I'll talk to him a bit and see if he calms down. Just don't say anything to anyone about this until I work it out with him, please?"

Hermione still looked stricken, as this was not at all what she'd expected. "Tell him we're sorry, too. I honestly never imagined he'd take it that way. No one did! Really, Harry." 

"It's alright, 'Mione. This isn't your fault. Just a miscalculation. Don't worry. I'll cool him off and talk to you later. Get some rest, love."

Harry wished Ron and Hermione a good night and closed the door. Then he walked over to the bathroom door and waited a few seconds before rapping gently on it.

"Yesss?" Draco's voice was tense and irritable, full of subtle menace and acid sarcasm. How he could pack so much emotion into a single word, Harry just couldn't grasp.

"It's alright, love. They've gone...and Hermione wanted you to know that she's sorry you weren't pleased. No one wanted to..."

"WEREN'T PLEASED?!" The door swung open, revealing a red-faced and blazing-eyed Draco. He stared directly into Harry's eyes with a face that was almost pinched with contained fury. Harry backed up a step, suddenly feeling like HE was the smaller of the two. Draco was really something when he was worked up, and his presence fairly crackled with power.

"I'm 'NOT PLEASED' by the war. I'm 'not pleased' by death omens in your dreams. I'm 'not pleased' by getting hexed or harassed by class mates. This...this is furiously, bitterly, massively PISSED OFF! Look upon it and know it! I swear by Salazar himself that, if so much as one peon mocks me, I WILL hex and curse my way through the entire student body...starting with the crackpot Prefects who schemed this!" There was nothing in Draco's voice or body language that suggested exaggeration.

Harry hadn't spent so much time watching Draco only to flounder now. Gryffindor courage and a dash of Slytherin instinct guided him. Draco was horribly insecure, even if he rarely showed it in open or obvious ways. Harry leaped in where most angels feared to tread. He simply lunged forward and grabbed Draco, pulling him close for a sudden, and very passionate, kiss.

Draco initially squealed in surprise and protest, struggled for almost two seconds, then melted into the kiss with a faintly annoyed sigh. When they separated a few minutes later, Harry softly touched his finger to Draco's lips, then guided him over to the bed and started massaging his shoulders and neck.

Draco was too pleased and confused by this reaction to his own wrath to make any further protest, but he was waiting impatiently for Harry to say something. Part of him hoped that Harry would piss him off, but the rest of him was enjoying the kisses and massage too much to care about anything else. 

Harry finally began to speak in calm and even tones. "There's nothing I won't back you up on, you know that. If I thought for one second that this was some way to hurt you, well, I'd never even think of going along with it. If anyone has anything to say about this that you don't like, they'll have to dodge curses from both of us."

The gentle hands and words of absolute support were working their magic. Draco's muscles were slowly relaxing, and the blond boy let a disdainful huff slip out. "You...you really want to do this? Would you understand if I didn't?"

"Love, if you're sure you don't want to accept it, I'll tell them to find some other couple. I promise. You don't have to do anything you don't want to...but I believe them. This happened because almost the entire school admires you...and me. This is their way of saying they approve. Just because it's an old tradition to have a King and a Queen, doesn't mean that anyone thinks you're a queen. It isn't an insult. They admire you, Draco."

The last knot of tension slid out of Draco. He was still mentally reeling from being disarmed and soothed so quickly. Traditionally, only a pile of writhing and badly hexed bodies left him feeling better when he was seriously angry. He realized that Harry had a positively dangerous amount of influence over him...and yet, Draco couldn't quite bring himself to mind. He let out a long sigh, and leaned his head back onto Harry's chest.

"I'm sorry I got so mad." Draco's voice was almost a whisper. "I'm just tired, it's almost NEWTS week, there's so much to do, and I didn't need any more...'complications'. I didn't mean to yell at your friends, either. I just felt like a laughingstock for a moment. I used to be the most feared person in this school besides Severus and Filch. Now they want to make ME, a gay boy, AND my boyfriend, King and Queen of Hogwarts! It's just weird. I'll feel like some kind of showpiece, all dolled up for their stupid little party, then trotted out to amuse them for a bit. Maybe it's just a Slytherin thing, but I can't help but feel like people would be laughing up their sleeves at us. Harry, I'm not exactly what people would call 'butch', but I've never let people laugh at me and get away with it. I won't this time either."

"It's alright. Those are all good reasons to be a little worried. There's nothing wrong with any of that, love. I hope you'll let Hermione know you aren't mad at her. She felt awful about it, and she's probably crying herself sick over it right now. It would help a bit if you tell her it's alright now. And think about this...Hogwarts has never had a gay couple as the King and Queen of the Leaving Ball...ever! You and I are going to be the first. You've already left a huge mark on this school, just by working to change your house and by being with me, now you can make one last giant mark that people will remember forever. Even if it happens again in this century, we'll always be the two who did it first. I can't even imagine doing this without you, so what do you say? Will you try it?"

"Spirit of Salazar, but there must be some Slytherin in you. Harry, you could sell water to the ocean. When you put things like that, I can't really resist, can I? Besides, it's probably just as well that they asked me, since no one else could possibly hope to pull this off with the kind of style and panache that I possess! I'll tell Hermione it's okay tomorrow...and I suppose I just MIGHT apologize for exploding that way. Maybe. Generally speaking, the word sorry only crosses my lips when referring to the state of another person, but I could make an exception just this once. Hmmph. I would like to see how well YOU deal with the concept of being the Queen, though. How would you like it if they expected it of you, hmmm?"

Harry was taken aback for a second, but he recovered fast. "Me? Well, I'd probably be flattered at least, but there are a few problems I'd have to iron out before I did it." Harry left an opening he knew Draco would leap on.

"And what, pray tell, would those be?" Draco asked archly.

"Well, I'd need perfect hair, lots of product, a huge wardrobe, a sexier way to walk, and a huge CD collection featuring everything ever recorded by Madonna and Cher." Harry bit back his laughter and waited for the fireworks to start.

Draco went rigid for a moment, Harry could almost see his boyfriend's hackles rising. Draco stood slowly, turned around, and arched a single eyebrow. "Do not mock my CD collection! I'm sure I'm paying some karmic price for my crimes in another life, or I'd never have wound up with such a hopeless, scruffy, inelegant oaf for a lover." 

Draco pressed a single finger into Harry's chest, slowly pushing Harry back onto the bed. "And just so you know...hair, wardrobe and walk aside...I own you, Harry Potter." Draco straddled his now prone lover and made himself comfortable on top of Harry's lap.

He leaned in, sucking and licking his way along Harry's neck, and grinding his hips against Harry's lap, until he reached the edge of Harry's ear. His hips never stopped working against Harry's fast growing erection, even through their clothes, but the words he whispered into Harry's ears were what drove his lover over the edge with astonishing speed.

"Harry James Potter, you can play at being the 'leader of the pack' all you want, but in this room, in this pack, I will ALWAYS be the sex-alpha. I do this because I want to, and I do it better than ANYONE ever will. I can make you come in ways you haven't even imagined yet, and I can make you do it harder, and better, and more often than anyone you will EVER know or dream of! You may be good, but I am the best...and you are MINE! Now and forever." With that final statement, Draco clenched his muscles tightly and, even through their slacks, Harry could feel the carefully aimed and timed friction against his aching hard-on. When Draco's mouth clamped down hard, just beneath his right ear, Harry groaned and lost it entirely, coming hard and fast into his own clothes.

When the last shudders of Harry's orgasm subsided, Draco climbed off the bed and unzipped his own slacks, then exposed his own aching erection. "You're not done yet. Come here!"

Harry scrambled almost desperately to the edge of the bed and bent forward, reaching to take Draco's cock in his hand, only to be stopped by Draco pushing his hands away. Harry looked up, confused.

"Keep your hands down and open your mouth." Draco ordered, with a shadow of his old familiar arrogance. Only a faint hint of affection was recognizable in his lusty tone.

Draco took hold of Harry's head with both hands, slipped into his lover's eager mouth, and began to slowly slide himself in and out of Harry's motionless face. Harry's eyes were closed and he seemed utterly at peace, but Draco could feel the muscles of Harry's throat occasionally rebel...and he savored it.

A small trickle of drool rolled down to Harry's chin while Draco ruthlessly fucked his boyfriend's mouth, and Draco felt his own orgasm rising, as surely as the tide, inside him. With only a few gasps as warning, he suddenly pulled Harry's head back and off of him, then quite deliberately spattered every drop he could muster onto Harry's handsome and waiting face. Draco waited until the last tremors of his own orgasm subsided, then pushed Harry back onto the bed and lapped his face clean between long kisses, pausing only to occasionally whisper into Harry's ears again and again... "Mine."

Draco looked upon his handiwork in the lazy aftermath of their sated lust and thought to himself, 'Sometimes...sometimes it's good to be the Queen!'


	46. Return Of The Wolf

All I Ever Wanted.... chap. 46 'Return Of The Wolf'

 

The new week brought only new complications for Harry and Draco. Final examinations aside, there were now plans to make for the Ball. Draco had taken the liberty of owling a series of purchases to Madam Malkin's, and since his account was considered VIP status, the order would be shipped to Hogwarts before the week was out. The last few days it had seemed like they only left the table to sleep!

Harry was on his way to Professor McGonagall's office for an update on his new magical exercises. There weren't many things left to try in the grimoire that Harry hadn't already done, but expanding on those basic techniques was complicated and dangerous. Much of it was strictly theoretical, and had never been attempted in living memory. They could only guess at the ramifications of amplifying certain spells, and McGonagall was notoriously cautious about untested and experimental magic. 

At the door of McGonagall's office, Harry stopped and knocked politely, sincerely hoping that the Deputy Headmistress was in a better mood than usual. Over the past month, she had grown distant, sharp-tongued, and increasingly moody.

Someone had to lead the Order, and Minerva had taken that responsibility along with assuming the duties of Headmistress. Harry wished he could make it easier for her, but there was precious little he could do at the moment. Hell, it was nearly all he could do to stay ahead of his own studies!

To Harry's surprise, Remus Lupin opened the door of the office, and promptly pulled Harry into a hug. "Harry! Look at you! You must have grown another three inches just this last year. The Headmistress is due back in a few minutes, please…sit down for some tea."

Remus looked a bit less shabby than he had in the past, and had the healthy glow of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. It had been more than nine months since Remus had started a mission for the Order, and more than just joyful over seeing him again, Harry was happy to see him looking so well.

"You look great," Harry opened as he took a chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "It's good to see you back. Your letters meant a lot, and I know you were very busy. So much has happened this year...I just wished you'd been here to see it." Harry accepted a cup of hot tea and sipped it slowly while Remus spoke.

"No jesting about that, Harry. Some of your posts gave me quite a shock. I wish I could have visited, but at least the mission was largely successful. I can't divulge much, but I can say that You-Know-Who will have a very hard time recruiting non-humans and magical creatures to his service. I was just debriefing some of the mission when Minerva had a Firecall from the Ministry. She felt the matter urgent enough to merit a visit in person, but she'll be back soon enough. Now tell me about Draco Malfoy. That would be highest on my list of things I've been wondering about for months. Hard to imagine the two of you hitting it off so well, much less living together. I assume he's quite a bit different in private than he ever let on in public?"

Harry smirked over the edge of his teacup. "You assume correctly. He's amazing, Remus. He's more complicated than I ever thought, sweeter than I ever imagined, stronger than I would have believed, and better in be...umm... I mean..."

Remus chuckled mildly. "It's alright, Harry. You seem very happy. I think that's all that really matters, don't you? Since you wrote of having a suite together, well, I assumed that your relationship was fairly, shall we say, 'advanced'."

Remus took a bite out of a biscuit and a long sip of tea. "I'm very proud of you, Harry. You've got an awful lot on your shoulders right now, and don't be afraid to ask for a spot of help if you need it. I'll be at the Three Broomsticks if you should need me. I'm glad the Order is posting me in Hogsmeade. There aren't a lot of people left in my life that matter to me, and frankly, the ones who do matter are all the more dear to me because of that. If you have the time, I'd love to sit down for supper with you and Draco. Assuming, of course, that I don't make him too uncomfortable."

It was easy to tell that Remus was a little nervous about frightening someone so important to Harry. After all, Draco Malfoy hadn't coped well with the notion of being taught by a werewolf several years ago, and if that hindered Remus' ability to see Harry, it would be hard on both of them. Harry took a biscuit for himself before answering.

"I don't think Draco would worry about 'that' much anymore. I mean, he was a complete prat a few years ago, but living in Slytherin kind of demanded that he act that way. He wanted to lead that house from within, and being outspoken and vicious at every opportunity was part of it. You wouldn't believe what he's like when he's just being himself. I'm not saying he has any great urge to run about hugging random Muggles, but he's incredibly decent when he feels comfortable around someone. I'm sure we can sit down for dinner in our suite before the Leaving Ball. Hell, I'm just glad you're home. I...I haven't really had anyone I felt right about talking to since...since Dumbledore left."

"I don't know much more than you, Harry, but don't worry too much for Dumbledore. We do have some resources that would tell us if he had passed away, and those haven't informed us of any such thing. He might be having a hard time of it, or be involved in something ridiculously complicated, but I can assure that he hasn't left us, Harry."

Harry sighed with relief, the knots of tension in his shoulders melting away. The subject of Albus Dumbledore's absence had been a hard one for him. "Thank you. I just hate not knowing and having to wait. I...well, Professor McGonagall has too much to do already, she doesn't need me whining on about stuff to her, and Draco's had such a hard time the last month, besides.." Remus Lupin put up his palm and Harry stopped talking and looked up expectantly.

Remus looked into Harry's eyes with a seriousness and intensity that was quite unusual for the normally mild mannered werewolf. "Harry, please don't EVER think that your feelings or concerns are of no importance. I mean that! We all have a lot to deal with right now, and you have more than most, but you aren't a burden. If you should need something, anything, just ask. No one will would think ill of you for wanting a friendly ear to bend for a bit. You're not just here to help us win against You-Know-Who, WE'RE all here to help YOU win against him. I know your parents would never have wanted you to feel like you couldn't speak your mind. So let me lay this to rest right here. There isn't one person in the Order who wouldn't do their best to help you, and there's also no shortage of people who, quite frankly, love you. In case you're still uncertain, the latter category includes me. So how's that?"

There wasn't anything remotely awkward about the hug that came after Remus' speech. Harry did have a bit of a time keeping his eyes from misting up, and truthfully, so did Remus. They settled back into their chairs and let their conversation ramble and drift. They'd put a sizable dent in Professor McGonagall's supply of biscuits by the time she appeared in the Floo and, stepping out red-faced and cursing in a most unladylike manner, stamped to her desk and chair.

"It's ludicrous! Unconscionable! I swear to you, the Ministry is so top heavy with empty-headed oafs that it's a bloody miracle the whole service doesn't tip over! I simply cannot believe that..." Suddenly noticing Harry seated beside Remus, Minerva quickly calmed herself and halted her tirade against the Ministry. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat back in her chair, getting her nerves back under control with a certain amount of difficulty. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, she collected her thoughts and spoke.

"Well. It comes to this. Harry, the Order meets again tonight, so do pass the word. You might as well hear this now, but I ask you to keep it in confidence until the meeting. Rufus Scrimgeour is pulling the Aurors out of Hogsmeade. The Ministry wishes to reassign them to the search for Dumbledore, as well as the search for the missing members of certain families, whom we of the Order know perfectly well to be Death Eaters, and whom we can be nearly certain will be involved in an attack here, likely before the month is out. Thinly spread forces are not an appropriate answer to our problem, but without Albus to bludgeon some sense into him, that idiot of a Minister seems determined to leave us woefully undefended. If I didn't know better I'd suspect the involvement of a Death Eater, but in this case I'm afraid it's simply run of the mill stupidity and stubbornness."

Harry was furious, but at least months of Occlumency had built up his ability remain calm...at least externally. "He knows we can't go to the wizarding press about this, either. Too much secret information that could go public if we complain too loudly. I used to think Fudge was a truly lousy Minister, but he was just bad at anything more complex than administration. The horrible thing about Scrimgeour is that he's just smart enough to be genuinely dangerous. This stinks. Is there anything we can do to compensate?"

"I've no answer for that, yet. I have a few ideas, but we'll discuss those at the meeting. Harry, I've written some exercises for you, but I wish you to be doubly cautious with these." She handed Harry a small sheaf of papers. "The technique in question here is purely theory. You may be able to siphon power away from people as well as places. It's feasible that you could absorb the magic that powers curses and other spells before they even reach you. A bit like 'eating' them before they could do any harm, feeding your own magic in the process. I took some time with Professor Snape to work out some initial experiments that should be quite safe. Please stick to them and take no chances or risks. I'll see you at the meeting tonight, the usual time and place. You're dismissed, and do be careful, my boy."

Remus clapped Harry on the shoulder. "See you tonight, Harry. We'll come up with something. There are still a few tricks left in our bag. Give my best to Draco. Time for my debriefing to continue. Take care."

Harry excused himself and left the room. His head was still whirling from the heap of new information. Dinner with Remus and Draco, Aurors leaving Hogsmeade, new magic to practice...it was enough to leave anyone reeling, much less a Hogwarts seventh-year on his last weeks of NEWTS. Not that they were going poorly. At a guess, Harry would have had to say that he was doing quite well, and certainly better than his OWLS had implied. He'd have his scores just before the Leaving Ball, and that would be sweet relief. For better or worse, his school days would soon be done. 

For now, Harry was content just to get back to his suite. Draco would probably be busy with Slytherin matters for another hour or so, and Harry could scan his new exercises while he waited for his lover to join him. Then he could broach the topic of having Remus over for dinner. Given the dramatics over being chosen as King and Queen of the Ball, Harry wasn't going to place any bets on Draco's reaction to the idea of dining with a werewolf. The best he could hope for was a reasonable open-mindedness to the notion. Harry could work with that.

Harry opened the door to his suite and stopped cold in shocked surprise halfway through the door. Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe were all seated and discussing something in serious tones, followed by instant and deafening silence when Harry arrived. Draco gave a nod to Blaise, and Blaise stood up and looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"Potter, we have an offer to make. This might be overdue, but we need your help." 

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't want to be misinterpreted by Draco's friends. All he could think of at the moment was a Chinese curse. 'May you live in interesting times.' It hadn't seemed terribly curse-like when he'd seen it quoted on the telly years ago, but today it suddenly made perfect sense.


	47. Strange Bedfellows

All I Ever Wanted.... chap. 47 'Strange Bedfellows'

 

One look at Draco told Harry that Blaise was deadly serious. Every face in the room was fixed on Harry, waiting for a reaction. There was nothing to be done for it, but to dive in and find out what he was dealing with here. 

"Then I guess we have something to talk about. Someone conjure me a seat and let me hear what's going on." Harry took his seat after Draco hastily Transfigured one for him, then he addressed the assembled Slytherins.

"I think I can say this safely. Everyone here has proven themselves to Draco, and that's the same as proving yourself to me. I can honestly tell you that if there is a way I can help, I'll do it. It still freaks me out a little, since I never imagined saying that out loud in a room full of Slytherins." Harry smiled to show his words were in jest, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

Blaise was holding Pansy's hand while he sat next to her, and she looked a little peaked and wan. Something had rattled all their nerves over the last few days. Pansy coughed and spoke up.

"It's our parents. Pot...I mean, Harry. My father, and Vince and Greg's fathers...they're all gone. None of us know where they went, but we think we know why. We think you know why, too. Draco won't share anything about what you've been up to, and we don't expect him to, but we did ask him to arrange this meeting." Crabbe and Goyle nodded morosely, showing agreement with Pansy. 

Blaise took it up from there. "You and Draco, it ought to be impossible, but you did it anyway. Makes a person think, 'What else is possible?' We've thought about this a lot. No one in this room tonight wants to be marked or serve the Dark Lord. If it were up to us, he'd be a lone crackpot ex-Slytherin in dire need of an attitude adjustment.

Some of us remember our fifth year pretty clearly, and even though we could never prove it, we know Dumbledore was building an army of students. Draco has been our friend since we got here. I don't want to go throwing around words like trust, so let's just say I believe in Draco. And he believes in you. I know he wouldn't pick a side with no hope of victory, and if he believes, then I believe. We're not heroes, but does your side have room for a few more? We'll take Veritaserum, swear Oaths of Binding, whatever. As long as you don't burn a brand into our souls and torture us for amusement, well, we're pretty much yours."

Draco remained silent. He was letting Harry take the lead on this. Inside, he feared that any pressure on his part would smack of loyalty to his house instead of Harry. Draco settled for pleading with his eyes. ‘I believe them. They need you. Please help them, Harry.' Draco's eyes speared that message through Harry in a single glance. It was heard and accepted.

Harry thought his answer out carefully, as this was a dangerous game. Too much information and they became liabilities, too little and they wouldn't join. There was a balance to be kept, but he thought he could keep it safely.

"Alright. There are a few things I can tell you before we go any further than this, but you understand that there's a lot I can't say until this is formalized." Every one save Draco nodded somberly. "Good. First, there are a lot of people on this side. I can't name names, but there are more of us than you'd think, we're well organized, and we have more than a few tricks up our sleeves. Second, we have ways to hide or protect people, if that's what they really want, but we always need more help. Maybe just support in the background, or right in the thick of it. I can't promise safety, and I can't even promise victory, but I can promise that, with us, no one will be tortured, and no one will be forced to kill unless they volunteer to fight. Now, what I want to know is, what is it that you want specifically? Why come to us now?"

Pansy was going to speak, but seemed to have trouble getting the words out, so Blaise spoke up again. "I didn't think you'd get it right off. You aren't in Slytherin, so you wouldn't understand. We know what our parents would want from us, and if we weren't in school right now, we'd be marked and serving the Dark Lord already. We put this off as long as we could, but with our parents gone and school almost over...Potter, we know what's coming, and maybe we'll get killed for choosing the wrong side in this, but with the Dark Lord, even if we win, we win a life of slavery. At least this way, we have a chance, and even if it isn't much, it's better than nothing. We don't 'want' anything. We're joining up with the side that will leave us a world we can live in and still keep our sanity. Not looking to go out in a blaze of glory here, but if there's a way to tip the balance in your favor and come out with our skin intact, we'll take it! So...can you help us?"

Harry weighed what he heard and, against everything he'd ever expected, he knew what his answer had to be.

"It can be done. There are people I'll have to talk to, and it may be a few days before this is resolved. All I can give you right now is my word that I'll start making arrangements on your behalf as fast as I can. All of you have been good friends to Draco, and any friend of his, is a friend of mine." Harry held is hand out to Blaise, and the hand that met his was strong and confident. The sigh of relief that the assembled Slytherins collectively released was the only sound in the room for a minute.

Draco finally made his presence known, now that Harry had rendered his own judgment. "I told you it would be fine, Pans. Harry will make sure you're covered. I'm not saying things won't get ugly, but when the dust settles...I know who'll still be standing...and he won't be wearing black!" His voice echoed the disdainful overconfidence of his youth, likely to reassure his house mates that his own confidence was complete.

They chatted nervously, albeit less so than before, and spoke of lighter topics. Pansy must have already been warned about Draco's opinion regarding the Leaving Ball, since contrary to her nature, she made no witty comments involving the word 'queen'. 'Just as well', thought Harry, since he had no desire to carry Draco's friends to the hospital ward. Besides, they had places to be tonight that couldn't be put off.

After a surprisingly enjoyable time in the company of five Slytherin students, Harry wished their friends, and soon to be comrades, a good night, then sat down to talk to Draco about the days developments.

"So, love...do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Harry was smiling, since being near Draco almost always made him do that, but his voice hinted at seriousness and near-exhaustion.

"I'll take the good news! Nothing you say could be all that bad. You just helped the handful of people from Slytherin House that matter the most to me... Harry, you're my hero!"

Harry blushed at the sincerity of Draco's words, but got back to the point. "Well, Remus Lupin is back in town, and he'd love to meet us for dinner some night...soon."

Draco hid it well, but Harry could detect his sudden tension. Draco fiddled with his cuff before answering with a half hearted quip. "I thought there was good news...now I'm worried. You're sure he said 'meet', right? I'd hate think tragedy was about to strike because you thought you heard an 'M'."

Harry was crestfallen. "He's really a wonderful person, Draco. If you just meet him once, I know you'll like him. Please. It's really important to me. He's the last of my parent's friends who still lives. I...I know the whole werewolf thing makes him a little spooky, but he takes Wolfsbane Potion for the full moon, and the rest of the time he's fine. Please tell me you'll try to get along with him...please?"

Draco cracked under the barrage from Harry. It was more than he could take, especially after Harry had put his friends at ease. "Alright, alright. I'll have dinner with him and see how it goes. As long as he doesn't pee on the rug, hump my leg or chew on the furniture I'm sure we'll get on just fine."

"Draco! He doesn't do anything like that and you know it. Besides, if Snape can make his potions, you can be nice during dinner."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Harry. Old habits die hard. Some people smoke, or chew their nails. How gauche. When I'm tense, I snark. It's less common, but it's what I do." Draco was smirking, but at least he had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I'll be fine. He was never mean to anyone, but I'm just edgy about the whole homicidal animal once a month thing."

Harry relaxed and took his boyfriend's hand. "Once you two get to talking, you'll be fine. I know you will, but there are some other things you need to know about. I've got to drop by Gryffindor tower. There's an Order meeting tonight. I'm meeting with Ron and 'Mione for a bit to let them know. The news just came in. The Aurors are going to be pulling out of Hogsmeade. I was with Remus when McGonagall got back from the Ministry, and she was severely pissed. I think they're being put on the search for the missing Death Eater families. That and the search for Dumbledore. I'll be back as soon as I can. Alright, love?"

"No Aurors! Are they fucking crazed? No wonder my father always hated the Ministry, it's staffed by mental defectives!"

"We're still working out some plans to compensate for them. Just don't tell anyone else, even from the Order, until the meeting. No one else knows yet except Remus and myself. McGonagall only got the word from Scrimgeour a couple hours ago. If it's any comfort, you can look at the new exercises I got today, then help me practice them tomorrow. It'll keep you occupied 'til I get back, and I think they'll make you feel a bit better. They're all about 'power theft', or something along those lines."

"Wait, you mean they finally worked out practical exercises for power leeching from other wizards? That was in theoretical section in the last chapter! Bloody hell! Who needs the Ministry? If you take this far enough, the Black Prat will be firing blanks. Give me those!" Draco greedily snatched the papers from Harry's hands, scanning the pages and mumbling to himself. The word brilliant came to the surface a few times, but eventually he settled down with a sigh.

"Thought that might cheer you up." Harry leaned in and kissed Draco on top his head. "You need to relax a bit. We've got plenty to do tonight before we get any sleep. Save your energy."

"Hah! Save it for you, you mean? Don't worry. I'll be fine, just get back as soon as you can." 

Mutual tensions resolved, Harry and Draco slid into proper 'snogging mode' and couldn't quite bring themselves to part. Then the distinctive pop of an Apparating house-elf snapped them back to reality.

"For Masters Harry and Draco, sirs. A message from Professor Snape. Only for you, sirs!" The little creature held out a single scrap of parchment.

Harry reached out and accepted it, then thanked the elf before it left. When he opened the slip of parchment, words slowly appeared on the blank page. More of Severus' spy craft. Harry read it aloud for Draco's benefit. The words disappeared within seconds of having been read.

"I have been summoned. Inform the Headmistress. I've little time. There is no way to gauge when I will be able to return. Do what you must. Severus Snape."

Draco sat in shock a moment. "It's been a long while since he's been summoned. This can't be good. Harry, do you think this is it?"

"I don't know. I really don't. I'm glad there's an Order meeting tonight. Fuck! Could our lives possibly get just a little more complicated? Gotta go, love. I'll be back fast as I can."

Harry paused for a final long kiss, then parted from the lips that threatened to keep him from his responsibilities, and hurried out of the suite and up to Gryffindor. This was not the first time he'd ever wondered when life would let up just a little, and to his constant irritation, he knew it likely wouldn't be the last.


	48. The Deal

All I Ever Wanted......Chapter 48 'The Deal'

 

Harry's brief meeting with Ron and Hermione went well, given that he was in the position of keeping news from them. It would be only a few more hours until they heard of the departing Aurors, and Harry didn't really wish the sense of dread he was feeling to be shared, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

The hours until the meeting ticked away with an almost vindictive slowness, but given their overflowing desk full of schoolwork and private studies, perhaps being up late was called for anyway. It was with sheer relief that they gathered up Harry's Cloak and padded out into the halls of Hogwarts. 

The journey to the chambers below the castle was swift and uncomplicated, though Harry had been forced to muffle Draco's mouth once. They had passed by a pair of trysting, lovebird students en route to the Astronomy Tower long after curfew, and the urge to prank the unsuspecting while safe beneath the Cloak was more than Draco could bear!

Moody and Tonks guarded the entrance to the meeting chamber, and the boys could hear Moody's gruff complaints as they approached.

"Hmmph. Pink hair. Service has gone soft, if you ask me. We'd 'ave none 'o that in my day, nossir! Disrespectful to yer own office, is what it is! Small wonder we're in such a fix these day, when Aurors are runnin' about looking like they're no better than are..." Moody trailed off into incoherent grumbling as the boys approached. This was much to Tonks' liking, and she gave Harry a friendly wave.

"Wotcher, Harry! How are you and my own 'ickle cousin getting on? School's almost done for you, isn't it?" Nymphadora gave them a winning smile and a cheery wink, then ruffled Draco's hair, a gesture that he half-hated, since his hair was often a work of art, but that she had done so many times since his early childhood that it could be forgiven.

"It's hell in the trenches, but at least the worst is almost over. Once we get through this week, it's just waiting for our scores and getting set for the ball." Harry answered honestly.

Draco, on the other hand, simply stuck his tongue out and gave his cousin his best 'brat-face'. Harry found it oddly sexy, which was a little disconcerting when he thought about it, but by now, Draco was too much of a fixture in his life to let little things rattle him for more than a few seconds.

"Don't mind Tonksy, Harry. The magic in her hair seeped into her brain years ago," Draco interjected with an affectionate smirk. 

Moody's eye was watching them sternly, and his craggy face only softened a bit when Harry spoke to him. "Are you going to be posted in Hogsmeade? I'd feel a bit better if I knew you were nearby."

"Oh, aye. I'll be keeping an 'eye' on the place. Constant vigilance, lad. That's the way of it. Just do your best, Harry, and we've got your back. Meeting's almost ready to start, so head on in. We'll ward the doors and be in after you when the last few folks get here."

The old ex-Auror still gave Draco a furtive glance or two as the boys walked in, but several months of watching Draco attend the Order's meetings had taken the edge off of his initial hostility. It was hard to think of the name Malfoy in conjunction with anything good, but Harry had shown no signs of magical interference or potion induced affection. Whatever made him choose the son of Lucius Malfoy must have been genuine. The notion still gave Moody a twinge of discomfort, but then Auror Tonks' hair changed colors AGAIN, and that touched off a new round of irritable grumbling. 

Harry and Draco joined the largest gathering of Order members yet to date. Bill and Charlie Weasley had joined them this time, since, with the 'irregulars' trained and tended by Hagrid, they could slip away to attend the meeting proper. Charlie was an impressive sight, as dragon handling tended to require strength, skill, and a near total absence of fear.

Even Draco, who might get on well enough with the Weasleys, but could never be called an admirer, leaned over and whispered to Harry, "I never imagined that there could be such a thing as a frightening Weasley! Look at him! He looks like he could kill half the people in the room with his bare hands." Then Charlie and Bill saw them and headed their way.

"Heya, Harry...Draco, how are you two holding up?" Charlie's voice was almost booming. He was one of the few people in the room who made Harry and Kingsley Shacklebolt look small. Harry had grown tall during his final years at Hogwarts, but he would likely always be lean, unlike Charlie, who looked like he really could wrestle a dragon to the ground. Harry took answering out of Draco's hands, since his boyfriend apparently had no idea what to say to the red-headed tree that towered in front of them.

"Finals will be the death of us, but the rest is alright. You look like you have a couple new scars. Training been tough in the woods?"

"Not as tough as NEWTS were when I was here. You've got my sympathy, mate. I'd rather be wrestling dragons than go through that twice. By the way, Hagrid sends his best. Told me he's sorry he's been too busy to teach classes or just chat a bit the last few months, but he's just about the only one who can keep things under control over there. He just wanted you to know he'd heard about all the goings on in your life and he was glad for you."

"Well, give him my thanks, will you? We've all missed him. Tell him things are great. Bill... how's Fleur? I haven't seen you two since last year." Fleur had been Bill's wife for almost a year, and they were reputedly one of the only couples more sickeningly cute than Harry and Draco. Though Harry would never admit it, Veela charm affected him like everyone else, and when he had first met Fleur, she had been the only woman to make him react physically in a way similar to his attraction to Draco. It still rattled Harry's nerves when she was around, but since she had been married to Bill, she no longer projected her charm with the same alarming frequency. 

Bill Weasley smiled wistfully. "I miss her terribly, she's doing some inter-school liaison work in France while I work here. We haven't been apart this long since we were married. Still, got to keep the cause in mind. I've been patching up Hagrid and Charlie, not to mention breaking the occasional magically cursed wound. The Forbidden Forest has some nasty bloody surprises in store for the first Death Eater who pokes his nose in there. Trust me on that one."

"Good. Confusion to the enemy," Draco finally chimed in. "I can't think of anything more fitting than Death Eaters being eaten to death by half the creatures in that gods-forsaken forest. I just love the irony, don't you?" He smiled his most winning smile, hoping the others would find him amusing.

It worked like magic. The boisterous older Weasleys cracked up, and Harry chuckled in spite of all that he had on his mind. "You've got a winner there, I think, Harry." Bill nodded in agreement with Charlie's assessment of Draco, still getting a few guffaws under control.

Charlie clapped Draco on the shoulder with a hand like iron. "Harry, mind if I talk to your better half for a moment?" The question caught Harry and Draco both by surprise. 

Harry looked a bit curious, but gave a nonchalant shrug and stepped off with Bill to meet Arthur and Molly, leaving a terribly nervous Draco alone with Charlie. "Relax, Firefly. It's nothing that awful. I just wanted to talk to you about Harry."

Draco collected himself, feeling vaguely relieved. The subject of Harry was one he could wax eloquent on for days. "Oh! Good...I like that topic. Not that that would surprise anyone this late in the game." Draco let one of his patented smirks show.

"You've got a lot more spark in you than anyone expected. I just wondered if anyone around here ever got to telling you that we like what we've seen. Our Harry is as happy as we've ever seen him, even with all the shite he has on his shoulders. We know that's because of you. We always looked out for him the best we could, and he's like one of our own, but the torch is being passed to you, kiddo. What I'm saying is, take care of our boy. He's all yours now, so look after him right, will you?"

Draco was floored. He couldn't think of what to say for a few seconds, but finally got it together. "Wow. You don't do subtle, do you?"

"HA! I'm a dragon tamer! Subtle would get me chewed up and spat out on my arse. Not quite my style anyway. That's what the world has Slytherins for, anyway." Charlie gave an easy and lopsided grin.

Draco looked up at the second eldest of the Weasley sons, mulling over what to say. "I will. Look after him, I mean. He's too Gryffindor for his own good...someone had to take him in hand and sort him out. You lot did right by him when you were able, and I won't forget that. Thanks for telling me, though. I knew, but no one said it quite that way before."

"Right, then. Got a meeting and all, go find your boyfriend, little Firefly, we'll see you again, hopefully at my Mum's after this little set-to is over with and done for good." Charlie patted Draco on the shoulder one last time and sauntered off in the direction of a few Aurors and his parents.

Draco was still bemused by the notion of likable Weasleys when Harry rejoined him. "What was all that about, love? Looks like you made a good impression, but Charlie's a big softy at heart. Heart as big as the rest of him."

"I think it's official. Your surrogate guardians seem to have elected me 'Keeper of Harry Potter' without any pomp or ceremony. They really love you, you know?" Draco was faintly choked up by that realization.

Harry answered softly, "I know," and left it at that. Then he took Draco's hand and led his lover back into the crowd. Near the center of the gathering they found Remus Lupin, who perked up as soon as he got sight of Harry.

"Hogwarts' own reigning couple. Harry...Draco...good to see you. I suppose some congratulations are in order." Remus was smirking ever so faintly.

"I've been told about some remarkable happenings while I was away. Fairly impressive things, too. Hexing almost all of Slytherin? Do you realize, Mr. Malfoy, that you single handedly accomplished what the Marauders only dreamed of? If you don't mind my asking, what on earth did you do to that Nott boy?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh a little of this, a little of that. I'm not sharing anything that might lead to a way out for him. Let's just say that one of my ancestors dabbled in creative punishments." Draco had to admit that Remus Lupin looked better than he had in fourth year. The werewolf still made him terribly edgy, but he did his best to be polite.

"Looks like travel agreed with you. Harry told me you were back, and I assume you'll join us for dinner. We're busy, but we can take a little break tomorrow night if you'll oblige us by dropping by?

Harry looked pleased, seeing Draco and Remus chat with relatively little tension. "Yeah, we'd love it if you came by our little place, we've got plenty of room to set a little dinner for company."

"Well, alright then. We're agreed. Tomorrow at seven o'clock I'll be by. After that I expect I'll be part of the Hogsmeade guardians, but I'm glad I'll get the chance to spend some time with you two." 

They were interrupted by a stern cough from Minerva McGonagall, who had stepped to the center of the room and called the meeting to order. Every face turned to her, rapt and attentive.

Minerva steeled herself to impart the news she had. This last day had brought no happy news for the Order of the Phoenix, but there was still work to be done.

"I have difficult matters to broach tonight, but I shall begin with the happiest news we have. Our efforts to locate Albus Dumbledore may have failed, but we have been able to determine that he is alive. Whatever is keeping him from joining us, we cannot say, but you can be assured that he is still counted among the living." The assemblage of Order members muttered relief amongst themselves, relaxing visibly.

"We have, however, suffered a setback. The Aurors, at the command of Rufus Scrimgeour, are withdrawing from Hogsmeade tomorrow." Outrage and surprise rumbled through the room. The faces of the dozens present turned dark.

"Ostensibly, they are to be reassigned to the search for Albus Dumbledore, as well as those families who have lost members under mysterious circumstances. I cannot say that I approve of the Ministry's decision at this critical juncture, but perhaps it will bear some fruit. Let us not be discouraged by their absence.

Several members of the Auror Service have informed me that they will maintain contact with the Order, and Portkey or Apparate into town as needed, should an emergency require them. We also have Remus Lupin back among us, and he shall be stationed in Hogsmeade along with other key members of the Order." At least now the crowd was looking satisfied that action was being taken to compensate for the loss of the Aurors, and the grumbling was slowly turning into grim acceptance of the situation.

"I must also inform you that Severus Snape was summoned by You-Know-Who. There is no way to determine how long he will be absent, but given the timing of his disappearance, we must assume the worst. I shall be assigning a temporary Potions instructor to oversee his final examinations, and his duties as Head of House, if he does not rejoin us before the new week begins." Here, Minerva's pointed look in the direction of Harry and Draco left them a bit confused. Then she continued without further pause.

"Last, to compensate for the loss of the Aurors, I shall be hand picking former members of the student corps known as Dumbledore's Army. These young people will be taking up roles as site keepers and other, hopefully non-combatant, tasks. They will join certain members of Hogwarts' staff in guiding the younger students to safe locations in the event of attack, and securing and protecting the castle should the wards be breached.

This will free a number of better trained Order members who will become Hogsmeade gaurdians and combatants. I expect everyone present tonight to remain until I have spoken with them personally. The formal portion of this meeting is ended, I shall impart personal instructions now." With that last statement, the Headmistress motioned for specific people to come forward, and after giving them their new orders, she sent them on their way.

Ron and Hermione slipped in beside Harry and Draco. Ron looked grim, and Hermione seemed almost wan with worry.

"No Aurors, mate? This is complete bollocks! Scrimgeour ought to be run out of the Ministry for this. It's like painting a big sign on Hogsmeade that says 'Attack us, we're too stupid to win.' At least McGonagall's got a plan." Despite Ron's nervous confidence, Hermione still looked peaked.

"Harry, what if the Ministry is compromised? What if they know when and where to attack? We could get hit unawares. What if they have a way into Hogwarts and the Aurors don't respond? What if..." Hermione was spiraling into panic, but Draco cut her off.

"Nothing has changed! Nothing! They might have had those plans before now, and we were still armed and ready. We planned to have almost no advance warning of attack before, and we're still ready for a sudden strike now. Harry is probably the first person in a thousand years with the power to knock the castle over on them, and they haven't a fucking clue what they're up against! Now isn't the time to get scared of a withered megalomaniac and his arse-ignorant cronies, no matter how many of them there are. Snap out of it! When they come, we'll make them pay for showing their stupid masks within a mile of us! Got it?"

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Remus were staring at Draco in surprise. The vehemence in Draco's voice had startled them, and the total absence of doubt in his body language and tone was infectious. This wasn't the snarky busybody of their childhood rivalries, or even the uncharacteristically sweet boyfriend from their visits to Harry and Draco's suite. This was the voice of the wizard who stood in a room full of people who had once beaten him half to death, and then hexed and cursed his way through them like they were blind Squibs. Remus nodded quietly to Harry. It spoke volumes in a single gesture.

Hermione recovered. "You're...you're right. I'm sorry, I just lost it for a moment. I know we're as ready as we can get. Thanks...for reminding me." She trailed off as McGonagall coughed behind them, drawing their attention.

"Well spoken, Mr. Malfoy. I see our confidence in you was not misplaced. I admit to being entirely impressed, which lends me a certain confidence about my next question. In exchange for passing with honors, which you are nearly due in any case, would you be willing to take up the mantle of Potions instructor, with regard to grading the final examinations of your fellow students and supervising the last weeks' classes?"

The image of the eloquent, polished, urbane and supremely confident boy who stood before them completely vanished when Draco Malfoy opened his mouth in shock, and promptly squeaked.


	49. When The Wolf Is At The Door

All I Ever Wanted..... chap. 49 ''When The Wolf Is At The Door

 

The meeting of the Order slowly wound its way to an end, with a still stunned Draco dazedly half listening to the buzz of conversation around him. It was not unheard of, in Hogwarts' long history, for students to fill in for absent staff. It was, however, exceedingly rare, and a very high honor indeed. 

At least he was already familiar with Severus' curriculum. He could just step into the role of instructor, assign the expected material for each year's examinations, then sit back and grade the results. It would be more work than actually taking his own NEWT level examinations, but with the added pleasure of being the only student in recent memory to be honored so.

Draco's reverie was interrupted by the word Slytherin being spoken next to him. When he looked up, Harry was talking to a tired and harried looking Professor McGonagall, and the meeting chamber was empty save for Harry, Draco and Minerva. The topic, once he started paying attention, revealed itself to be the defection of Draco's seventh-year friends. 

Harry turned to Draco, "I believe them. Honestly, Headmistress, I think they want safe haven, if there isn't an attack before graduation. Maybe we couldn't induct them into the Order proper, but there has to be a middle ground. We could bring them under the Fidelius and hide them at Grimmauld Place if we had to, right? Or maybe even here at Hogwarts?"

"Harry, this is a bit much to ask. There are questions of security, and they're families have been clearly identified as Death Eaters. There are ways around Veritaserum, albeit few, and short of an Unbreakable Vow, which I do not believe in administering to students, I cannot risk the Order's safety for a handful of students with questionable motives."

Draco cut in, his tone of voice carefully flat. "We're aware that they're Slytherin students, purebloods, and the children of Death Eaters. If you think we'd even ask without giving due consideration to those things, you probably shouldn't trust us with first-year spells, because we'd have to be almost mentally incompetent not to think of them. What Harry is saying, and what I am telling you now, is that Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle are for real. We want to protect them, wherever it is necessary to place them, even if it means Veritaserum and an Oath of Loyalty for each of them.

Frankly, we need all the help we can get. I say bring them into Dumbledore's Army. That's a fair middle ground that won't completely compromise security, but will give them a chance to prove themselves. Someday the war will be over, and when it is, it would be nice if the Order was remembered as a unifying force for peace and good, not just the side that happened to win."

"He's absolutely right, Headmistress," Harry added. "This entire war and every life lost from it started with blind hate between two sides. It has to stop somewhere, and killing Voldemort is just part of it. If we can't even offer a hand in friendship to four fellow students who are scared of being enslaved and forced to kill, what the hell are we even fighting for?"

Minerva McGonagall stood in silence, still surprised by the sense of determination and passion she felt from Harry and Draco. In the massive undertaking she had been laboring daily to command, it was easy to forget the greatest purpose of all...peace and harmony amongst all wizarding kind. It was disconcerting, to say the least, that it took a pair of boys scarcely out of adolescence to remind her of this. 

Minerva sighed, but a tense smile softened her careworn face. "Very well. I stand persuaded. I will summon your friends to my office over the next few days and, with a witness present, induct them into Dumbledore's Army after suitable Oaths and Veritaserum testing have been administered. There is plenty of work to go around, now that the Aurors are no longer at our disposal. Which reminds me, you may both be interested to know that Nymphadora Tonks is resigning from the Auror service to join the Hogsmeade guardians. I have placed no pressure on the Aurors in our ranks to do such a thing, but apparently she cannot accept abandoning the most likely target on the near brink of war. Auror Shacklebolt will be continuing as our liaison with the Ministry. Hopefully, he will be able to direct a few resources our way, despite Scrimgeour's interference."

"Thank Merlin," Draco drawled with relief, "at least some of the Aurors have a priority higher than kissing Scrimgeour's arse!"

Minerva frowned, "Mr. Malfoy! Such a statement ill befits even a temporary instructor. I expect better from you than that. The fact that I quite agree with the sentiment is entirely beside the point. Gentlemen, I believe we all need some rest. A good night to you. I shall see you again tomorrow, Draco. You'll report to me first thing in the morning. We'll discuss Professor Snape's class schedule and curriculum then."

With that said, Minerva McGonagall left Harry and Draco standing in the cavernous meeting chamber alone, both still reeling from the ever rising demands on their minds and their time.

Harry curled his arms around Draco and hugged him tightly, then broke away for a kiss. "Congratulations, love. You were incredible tonight. You know that, right? Especially when you stopped Hermione from panicking!"

Draco's cheeks pinked a little at the memory. He was fairly proud of that moment. It wasn't often that Hermione Granger listened to anyone other than herself, and Draco had been well aware that it was quite a feat to accomplish for anyone, much less a Slytherin who had once been a sneering rival to her.

"I meant every word of it. The situation is still bad, but it isn't anything that jumping at shadows will solve. If we second guess every little thing we do, we'll be too busy quibbling over minutia to fight back when the time comes."

Harry chuckled softly. "You sounded like a Gryffindor there. I wonder if I've been rubbing off on you?"

"HEY! Don't tell me I have to explain to my lover what I've been trying to teach the rest of Slytherin! Cunning does not mean cowardice. It means choosing the best time and the best place for action. If that means thinking carefully before acting, fine. But at some point you have to act, and worrying isn't going to fix anything. And as for 'rubbing off' on me," Draco leaned up for a kiss, and ground himself against Harry slowly, savoring the almost instant bulge that formed in Harry's robes, "Well, let's just say that maybe there is a little bit of Gryffindor in me, and, if you don't say anything annoying in the next ten minutes, I'd like some more Gryffindor in me tonight!"

It was not surprising to discover that two people, under an Invisibility Cloak, who are both trying to achieve a proper sprint, will experience some difficulty. The hallways of Hogwarts were filled with enough disembodied laughter that several ghosts assumed that a new poltergeist had arrived. Somewhat later that night, two fairly sweaty and extremely sleepy young men curled tightly against each other as slumber overtook them.

The next day brought with it a flurry of activity. Draco had a chance to review Professor Snape's schedule and curriculum with Headmistress McGonagall, and the reality of what he had accepted became clear to him. Hogwarts was home to nearly three hundred students, the majority of whom pursued their Potions classes at least until fifth year OWLS. This meant that Draco would be administering and grading slightly less than two hundred exams in the next week. No wonder Snape always seemed crankier than normal near the end of the year!

For his part, Harry spent his Sunday off in the dungeons with Ron and Hermione. It was a fine thing to fuel his own spells with magic drawn from the air around him, but targeting minor hexes that were in flight was a far more difficult prospect. 

Thankfully, Hermione knew the counter spells for every jinx, curse and hex she or Ron cast. By the time they called it quits, Harry was sore from head to toe, since even with counter spells, Trip Jinxes and other spells had sent him tumbling across the stone floor several dozen times.

At least toward the end, Harry had managed to siphon off some of the strength of Hermione's and Ron's spells, but he was exhausted none the less. He trudged his way back to the suite with feet that dragged on every step. 

Draco's eyes never left the mound of scrolls in front of him. Without so much as looking up, Draco smiled and asked, "How did it go, love?"

"A lot like hell, but without all the fun torture and warm fire. I hurt everywhere, plus a few places I didn't know I had until they got bruised. I got the theory down, but absorbing spells before they hit is bloody hard!"

Draco broke away from the pile of paperwork as Harry collapsed with a huff onto their bed. He pulled a bottle of oil from the nightstand and stood in front of Harry's prone body.

"Get your shirt off, love."

"Can I take a rain check on that, love? I'm really sore right now and Remus is supposed to be here in a little over an hour. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but..."

"It's MASSAGE oil, you big prat! Take your shirt off and leave your gutter of a mind on the desk. I haven't got a lot of time, but you'd better believe I mean to make you feel better before supper. If you knew how much paperwork Snape has for his exams you'd understand why he gets so snarky with students that don't keep up.

Besides, we have things to do after supper, too. Our outfits arrived today. We need to try them on and make sure they fit. Not that I don't trust Malkin's, but there isn't much time left for adjustments. It's better to make sure now."

"OH! Well, damn. Okay, but I get my gutter of a mind back when you're done." Harry groaned as he peeled away his shirt, revealing the bruises he'd collected during hours of non-stop practice. He peeled away his slacks as well, then flopped, as if boneless, onto the mattress.

Draco clambered atop his boyfriend, seating himself comfortably on Harry's arse, and poured the enchanted oil into the cup of his palm. He placed the bottle atop the nightstand, and rubbing his hands together, spread the oil evenly onto both hands. 

He started low on Harry's back, carefully working the oil in first, letting its magic kick in before pushing harder. Harry let go a slow sigh of relief as the magic numbed the aching pains along his back and shoulders, giving himself over completely to the pair of talented hands that eased away his tension.

Draco noticed the pale splendor of his manicured hands against the modest darkness of Harry's tanned back. What opposites they were, in so many ways. Light and darkness, and so ironic that the fairer of the two had been so full of darkness. Then, like a blazing sun, Harry had dispelled every shadow buried in his heart. Draco mused on while his fingers worked a magic of their own across Harry's bruised back.

Harry sank into a peaceful torpor, only occasionally moaning in contentment while his lover labored over his every ache and soreness. The enchanted oil melted into every fiber of his being, numbing the small hurts that he had earned himself by practicing so feverishly hard. He murmured, "I love you so much. How can I ever tell you how much, Draco?"

"Take the rest of your life, love. I'm sure you'll find a way eventually. Just...don't worry about it now. You've proven everything I could ever have doubted already. Now hush, before I'm done, you'll feel better than when you got up this morning."

Eventually, Draco's ability to resist the lure of the tawny body beneath him crumbled. The hands that had soothed away pain began to move in subtler, more sensual ways. When Harry felt the heat of breath on the nape of his neck, a low and guttural moan escaped his lips, this time caused by burgeoning desire. Soft kisses began to rain across his back, one after another, followed by tiny, delightful bites that teased and enticed.

Draco peeled away his shirt and snuggled close and tight across his lover's back. The sensation of his own skin against Harry's warm and lightly oiled back was incomparable. Harry turned his head ever so slightly, making small noises of lazy contentment. Then Draco felt the hips beneath his move, and with a lusty chuckle, Harry began to grind himself against the sheets, incidentally rubbing his still-clad arse against Draco's now-tensed groin.

They said nothing; a wordless agreement passing between them, propelling them toward satisfaction. Draco was almost surprised by the way something as simple as rubbing against Harry excited him. Although this was by far not the most advanced act that had passed between them, it was oddly just as pleasing. 

What was a bit odd for Draco was the simulated act of him topping. Equally odd was the degree to which he enjoyed it! Still, it was Harry. What more needed to be said? There could be nothing more arousing to him than that.

In minutes, their skin was laced with a fine sheen of sweat, and their movements became jerky, erratic, and punctuated by soft gasps and short, sharp breaths. Despite the host of other activities that might have drawn their interest, they were utterly lost in each other, bodies afire with a need so immediate that the mere notion of stopping was left entirely unconsidered. 

Draco felt a tightening in his groin, as well as a pulsing in his erection that presaged the orgasm that was so close. He could only whisper Harry's name with a fevered urgency while his face contorted with the rush of pleasure.

His swollen cock was pressed against the warm cleft of Harry's arse, and even through their trousers the sensation was sublime. Draco rutted against his lover's warmth, panting, allowing small grunts to escape him, and pausing to kiss or nip the back of Harry's neck. 

Harry felt the changing motions upon him, his heart leapt when Draco whispered his name to him, so worshipfully, so wildly alive with hunger that it sounded like a prayer. He let himself go, and let the burning need to come take him over completely. 

With a moan that trailed into a whimper, Harry shamelessly came into his pants as he ground himself between Draco and their sheets. With each pulse and twitch beneath him, another heavy spurt of his seed soaked his clothing. The joy of release was too much to allow Harry to care.

When the last shaky spasms of their respective orgasms had passed, Draco turned Harry onto his back and, straddling Harry's waist and leaning close, kissed him in a way that demanded more than simple frottage.

"I am soooo going to..." Draco's lust drenched voice was interrupted by polite knocking at their door.

"FUCK!" This time they shouted in perfect stereo, as they scrambled for their wands and shirts.

"Just a minute! Not quite ready in here!" Harry shouted to the door while he fumbled with his buttons and tie.

Draco fired off a pair of high speed Cleaning Charms at each of their soiled crotches, which was the only time common curses weren't leaving his mouth. "Gods damn it! I knew I should have just started by ripping your fucking pants off and jumping on your dick! This is what I get for not listening to my own better judgment. No, be nice, don't demand sex from the tired boyfriend...give him a nice massage instead!"

Harry Levitated the piles of paperwork off of the table and onto Draco's study desk. Then went back to straightening his clothes and running his hands through his badly mussed hair. "How do I look?" 

Draco paused and stared. "Gorgeous, but in a cute, I-just-came-in-my-pants-because-my-boyfriend-is-a-sexy-bastard kind of way. Good enough?"

Harry broke into giggles for a few seconds. "It'll have to be!"

Putting on his best poker face and smoothing his shirt, Harry moved to the door and opened it with a smile. Remus Lupin stood in the hall, and smiled when he saw Harry.

"Harry, am I interrupting anything? Should I just come back in a bit? It's no worry, really."

"No, no, not at all! Just cleaning up the place before the house-elves bring supper!"

The former professor looked at Harry and frowned slightly. "Tsk-tsk. Look at you! Bad form, Harry. Have you been out all day looking like that? Your collar is crooked, your tie is almost sideways, and your buttons are out of order in two different places. I trust you dress yourself a bit better than this when class is in session?"

Harry was hemming and hawing his way through a suitable excuse, when Draco interrupted, smirking wickedly and chuckling.

"We're busted, Harry. He was on to us the minute the door opened. He's just enjoying making you squirm!" Draco watched the werewolf break into laughter almost immediately.

"It was the clothes, wasn't it? Dead giveaway," Harry asked as soon as Remus regained his composure.

"Well, not quite. To be honest, you two give off enough pheromones to drench the sixth floor with the scent of sex. A lifetime as a werewolf doesn't have many perks, but an enhanced sense of smell is one of them. I was still on the staircase up when I picked up traces of what was going on."

Draco joined Harry in a mutual race to see who turned crimson with embarrassment first.

"Oh, come on, lads. You're almost grown. You do realize that I went to Hogwarts once upon a time? Do you really think no one in my day had sex? I just happened to be the only one in my class who could recognize it by scent alone. Let me tell you, the dorms are a lot tougher to live in with a wolf's nose and palate. Every time Sirius took off his socks I nearly choked!"

It was Draco who recovered first. "Welcome to our humble abode then. I sent instructions to the house-elves earlier. We should be ready to dine very shortly. Please, have a seat at the table, it would be a pleasure to just chat a bit before we break bread." 

Harry only managed a few strangled and apologetic sounding noises on the way to the table. This was quickly shaping up to be the longest dinner of his life.


	50. Coming To Terms

All I Ever Wanted.......chap. 50 'Coming To Terms'

The boys wished Remus a good evening, some three pleasant hours after he had arrived. After the door had shut and the Silencing Spell was in place, Harry rounded on Draco.

"I can't believe you did that! What the hell were you thinking?"

"Oh, come on, Harry! The tension was killing me...and you! I had to do something to lighten the mood."

"Having the house-elves serve dinner and loading his plate with a huge rubber bone was your way of lightening the mood? You insensitive prat! Being a werewolf has been a constant trial for him, how could you mock that?"

"Harry! Come off it! He laughed so hard he almost hurt himself! You told me the Marauders were all pranksters, and after he played you at the door, I knew he still had a sense of humor. Trust me, he just laughed more than he probably has all year."

"Okay, okay, he did like it, but you couldn't have told me in advance, could you?"

"Love, you couldn't keep a straight face if you tried. Someday, I absolutely must play poker with your friends from Gryffindor. If they're anything like you, I'll double the Malfoy fortune overnight."

Draco unwrapped two large parcels while he chuckled. He spread the two outfits across the bed, satisfied by Harry's look of awe.

"Merlin! How much did those cost, Draco? They're bloody incredible!" Harry touched the fabric of their garments, noticing the difference in quality between them and anything else he had ever owned.

"Slightly more than your Firebolt, but worth every penny. These are some of Malkin's finest. Appropriate house colors, spelled to fit, and the most current wizarding style. No skimping on the materials either. The gold on yours is real gold, Transfigured into cloth."

They weren't exceptionally difficult to get into either. Perhaps ten minutes later, they were admiring themselves in the mirror. Draco looked like the epitome of Slytherin, since his features lent themselves easily to chill arrogance and aristocratic aloofness.

Harry looked a king in more than name. The outfit brought to mind the occasional images of Godric Gryffindor from Hogwarts: A History. The glasses and the absence of a beard distinguished Harry as himself, but the faint impression of royalty was there none the less.

"We need to get out of these and put them away until the weekend," Draco muttered softly.

"Why the rush? These are perfect. I love them. A few more minutes won't hurt."

"Because I have another hundred exams to prepare for tomorrow, and if I look at you in that outfit for more than another minute, I won't get them finished tonight and McGonagall will skin me alive."

"Awww. Alright. Have it your way, love. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really. No offense, Harry. Potions aren't your strong suit, and if I even sort these wrong, it'll bite me in the arse tomorrow. Go ahead and study for your NEWTS. I'll be fine."

They changed back into their school clothes and settled into their studies. Draco was still at it when Harry called it quits for the night. After trying to tempt his lover into bed with a long goodnight kiss, Harry finally surrendered and let slumber take him, with the sound of Draco's quill scratching away furiously following him into unconsciousness.

Their last week of studies lingered in memory as the hardest of their lives. They were up before sunrise each day without exception, and rarely made it to bed before midnight.

Draco managed to oversee Snape's classes and exams with only modest difficulty, but that was owed to his crazed drive to meet a standard that would have been expected of a real professor. 

For Harry, it was a blur of practice sessions sandwiched between panicked study and grueling exams. Ron and Hermione were at the brink of exhaustion as well, since helping Harry prepare for battle took a certain precedence, no matter how critical their grades were.

In the midst of this, Dumbledore's Army was quietly reassembled, and drills were held, coaching the various students on how best to cooperate with the staff in protecting the rest of the children in the event of attack. 

Supplies were laid up long in advance, sufficient to meet the needs of the entire school for several months, and these were stored in the 'safe' chambers that had been marked as places to which students would retreat. A series of Portkeys had been spelled to allow flight from the school if needed, with Dumbledore's Army departing last, while the professors held the position secure as long as possible.

Blaise and Pansy joined the Army proper, and made fairly good organizers. Vincent and Greg, however, insisted on fighting. Once they learned that Draco would be actively involved in any battle, they wouldn't relent until they were guaranteed a chance to Portkey into Hogsmeade. Draco's team was still intact, and they weren't going to be part of Harry's squad, but at least they had a role flanking one of the wizards from town.

Neville Longbottom became a site keeper and healer for one of the hastily altered Hogsmeade teams and, despite a certain apprehension, was glad of the chance to honor his parents. He may not have been Auror material, or even particularly handy with combat spells, but he was a fair hand at most lower order Healing Charms, and that was enough to make him of use.

Remus Lupin wasn't around the castle that week, since the short handed guardians of Hogsmeade needed every able bodied person present, and to his regret, he would be locked in the Shrieking Shack on the night of the Leaving Ball. Most Hogwarts events were timed to the full moon, and like always, the former professor would be alone and in a slightly pacified wolf form while others celebrated.

As the week ground slowly to its end, Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas dropped by and wished Harry and Draco well. They were both members of Dumbledore's Army, and had exams and drills of their own to worry about, but still made a little time to visit.

No word came from Severus Snape, and despite the best efforts of the Aurors, no new information was unearthed regarding the whereabouts of Albus Dumbledore.

The Aurors did manage to capture a pair of Death Eaters who were traveling discreetly. Unfortunately, the pair of brutes quickly spelled themselves before capture, and showed signs under examination of multiple memory alterations. It was nearly impossible to sort fact from fiction in their permanently addled brains.

Harry saw the end of his NEWT examinations and felt a relief that penetrated through the gloom of war worries. Even his rampant libido had almost collapsed under the strain of the past week, and Draco had been little better. Not that the sex they had been able to have was bad, but it could have been accurately said that it lacked luster compared to their usual trysts.

As near as he could tell, his marks would be well above average in most of his classes. No door would be closed to him after graduation, but Harry still hadn't any idea what he really wanted to do with his life. He wanted Draco in it, to be sure, but what would he labor over once school and the war were over? There were no guarantees. Harry admitted the possibility that they might be killed before the rest of his life became an issue. He had confidence, though, and he knew that someday decisions would have to be made.

Quidditch held some appeal, but he didn't love the game quite the way he once did. He'd never lost his love of flight, and his Firebolt was still among the most beloved of his few possessions, but the notion of playing for money and being considered a gifted amateur with a saleable name just rankled. 

Being an Auror had seemed like such a fine thing, until Rufus Scrimgeour had proven that even organizations that fought Dark wizards were prey to politics and pride. It was impossible to imagine taking orders from a man whose only interest was furthering his career. 

With his new powers, almost anything was possible. Maybe Hermione could scheme up some new uses for old spells that might be worth something. Or perhaps St. Mungo's could use another registered Occlumens from time to time. Healing people's minds would be a pretty fine way to make a living.

Harry let his worries slide away. They could be gnawed at another time. He still had a promise to fulfill for Draco. Taking a year to travel the world would give him a chance to see what else was possible. They had enough combined wealth that there would never be any question of having to work. When they returned to England, there would be a world of opportunities waiting for him, and that was good enough.

In the meantime, Grimmauld Place had been restored by the Order, and would serve as the Order's headquarters again...if an attack did not manifest before the Leaving Feast. Rooms had already been prepared for Harry and Draco, as well for many others. They would have a safe place to rest after school no matter what passed.

Draco had made the best of his workload, and even Hermione was grudgingly impressed. Jealous, but grudgingly impressed. The only bone of contention between them was Draco's way of adding comments to his graded exams. Hermione insisted that it wasn't necessary to include scathing, acid commentary about the incorrect answers, while Draco insisted that, if it worked for Snape, then that was what he meant to do as well.

It was enough that he didn't take daily points from Gryffindor or any other house without serious cause, and that was sufficient to win him some support even from people who still held him to be slightly suspect.

A couple of discreet visits were made to the Manor, and Draco packed a few supplies in advance, knowing that Grimmauld Place would likely be his next residence if the war remained unresolved.

It was entirely possible that Dumbledore's supposition had been incorrect, or that, having assessed the level of protection around Harry and Hogsmeade, the Dark Lord had chosen to wait.

Draco stowed away several magical trunks that were shrunk to easy storage size. These contained enough to keep him comfortable for months if needed, as well keeping his most personal possessions from home near him.

The morning of the Leaving Ball came upon them before they were even remotely rested from the week behind them. Owled well wishes had piled up on their desks and table, and they sent more than a few of their own out to their friends.

Someday a festive gathering outside of Hogwarts was called for, but they'd have to settle for scribbled notes for a while. The last night had been their first one in weeks with no duties awaiting them in the morning, and it had been well spent.

Neither of them had any desire to leave the bed before noon, but it wouldn't do to spend their entire day in isolation before the Ball. Besides, the return of their respective libidos meant that Draco was actually bracingly sore from their activities of that past night. Harry had been at his very best, and the afterglow was nearly unbearable. They'd even had to settle for something slightly less vigorous in the shower, since Draco wasn't to going to risk limping his way through the Leaving Ceremony and the Ball.

The atmosphere in Hogwarts was finally cheerful again, the absence of the Headmaster and the grind of exams had dragged many students down, but today was a day of celebration, and it showed in every face. 

In every hall and room, students were chatting amiably and mulling over future plans. Giddy smiles seemed to be the order of the day, which was fine by Draco, since that was a great deal more dignified than admitting that he'd been shagged into a cheerful stupor by Harry.

Test results were announced mid-day, and lunch in the Great Hall was a muted affair, with an ever-present buzz of conversation that was completely dominated by talk of next year's classes and summer plans.

The Great Hall was closed after lunch while the house-elves redecorated for the ball, and for a few pleasant hours, Harry and Draco had no responsibilities upon them and simply relaxed in an unused classroom with a handful of their friends.

Blaise was the most pensive of the lot. Wry to the core, his question to them all left them thinking hard. "Who would have thought we'd all be here, like this, seven years ago?"

Draco, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Pansy, Greg and Vincent all pondered that in poignant silence for a moment. 

To everyone's surprise, Vincent Crabbe spoke first. "Humph. No complaints, though." Ever the wordsmith, our Vince.

There was a lot comfortable chatter after that, despite the enormity of leaving behind Hogwarts for good. There was no longer any doubt that they'd see each other again. Everyone in the room was in some way bound to Harry or Draco by ties of friendship, and if they might not have chosen one another as companions voluntarily, once the matter had been taken from their hands, they had all coped admirably. It wouldn't be long before they were truly free adults of the wizarding world, and the weird alliance they had carved from an unforgettable seventh year would indelibly mark the rest of their lives.

Eventually, they wound their way to their respective rooms, giving themselves plenty of time to prepare for the evening's affairs. Especially Draco, who had no intention of setting foot in the Great Hall looking one whit less than perfect. His vast supply of styling products would be overtaxed tonight, but the results would be legendary. He even fussed over Harry's hair until something artfully tousled emerged from the dark pile of tangles and cowlicks that usually graced his head.

At the last, they emerged from their suite with enough time for a fashionable entrance, and made their way down the stairs toward the Great Hall. They were already getting slack-jawed stares of amazement as they walked arm in arm through the busy halls of Hogwarts, and Draco quietly chuckled under his breath with obvious pleasure.

"I suppose I could get used to this, Queen or no. You were right, you know? I loathe admitting it, and I will lie outrageously if you breath a word of this to another living soul, but I'm starting to think that this is going to be one of the happiest moments of my entire life, and I thank Merlin you talked me into this, Harry." His words were whispered low enough that no one but Harry could hear him as they approached the Great Hall's doors, but the quiet intensity of them was not missed.

"Wait, before we go in, I've got something for you." Harry broke away from Draco's arm and fumbled in his pocket a moment. He held out a fine jewelry case and waited for Draco to take it.

"For you, because tonight, I wanted us both to wear something that symbolized how we feel about each other." With that, Harry ducked one hand beneath his fine tabard and pulled out the silver necklace Draco had given him months ago. He let it rest, bright and visible, in the center of chest. He always wore it, but he had never worn it so openly before.

"Harry! Please don't tell me that this is something that will make me cry. You ass! We're right outside the bloody Great Hall doors! Oh, Salazar's breath!" 

Draco opened the small case, and within it lay his own jewel, the very same one that Harry had enchanted. Now, however, it was secured as an amulet, suspended on a slender chain of platinum. The images in it still flickered back and forth, from their first, awkward kiss, to Harry's first statement of love.

Draco pinched his face and tried very hard to stay in control while he placed the amulet carefully around his neck. Then he settled for softly punching Harry in the arm.

"I. Love. You. You. Total. Prat." It was an effort to speak while trying to keep his face from reddening or letting tears come unchecked, but Draco did allow himself to hug the stuffing out his lover, bad timing irregardless. 

Fortunately, their finery was spelled to self-correct in the event of wrinkles, and Draco's hair couldn't have been mussed by anything less than a tornado, so no real harm was done by their last desperate snog in the hall.

When they were done with whispered affection, energetic kisses, and attempts to restore Draco's complexion to its normal pale splendor, it was time to go. Arm in arm, a few last steps, and they crossed the threshold as the doors opened for them, and entered the Leaving Ball.


	51. Destiny

All I Ever Wanted…chap. 51 'Destiny'

 

The ball would linger in Draco's mind as one of the happiest moments of his life. Harry looked perfect beside him, and despite his absolute hatred of the fame that was thrust upon him, Harry coped well with the random applause that broke out whenever he and Draco did anything.

They were formally crowned King and Queen of their class, and if there were a few snickers, they were more than overshadowed by the cheers, and it was abundantly clear, even to Draco, that Hogwarts was united behind them, offering its support without question.

Even Colin Creevey's seemingly insatiable need to take pictures of everything they did could not diminish the pleasure of that evening. In fact, the only truly unhappy soul in the Great Hall that night was Theodore Nott. This came as no surprise, since his 'speech impediment' had alienated him from the rest of the class. Theo just lurked near the punchbowl, muttering to himself, avoiding attempts at conversation to preserve the tiny shred of dignity he still possessed.

Harry's only frown that evening had come from seeing Theo at the punchbowl. Draco, however, insisted on a few minutes alone in Theo's company. As soon as they were alone, Draco smiled in a way that was reminiscent of a starving leopard with rabies.

"Theo, sweetie. It's been ages...looking forward to leaving here and entering the real world?" Draco's voice dripped the kind of acid insincerity that clearly marked him as a product of the upper class. His ability to deride others with a tone that only implied casual disinterest was legendary.

"Dray." Theo nodded his head in acknowledgment. He'd been sticking to terse, sullen, monosyllabic answers for the last few months, just to cope with the bizarre curse that had afflicted him ever since he earned Draco's wrath. 

Theo looked about furtively, and once he was sure that there was no one nearby, he spoke slowly and quietly.

"Please. Please take it off. We're almost…almost…damn it! Seen my cock? Take a look! You wouldn't believe how tiny it is! Like a first-year's…really!" Theo paused, panting after the outburst he couldn't halt.

"We're almost out of school, Draco. You won. I'm sorry about it. Just…just please take the curse off me. I'm beg…begging…begging for a dick that wouldn't require tweezers to hold. Damn it!" Theo waited, tense and fretful, hoping Draco would relent and temper his unique vengeance with a little mercy.

Draco looked at Theo speculatively. Being around Harry really had rubbed off on him in a lot of ways. Sometimes a little kindness was called for. Sometimes mercy was appropriate. Then he thought about waking up in a hospital bed, with his Harry half-dead beside him from Healer's Drain. Draco leaned close and whispered.

"Theo. I wish you a long life. Because I hope that everyday you draw breath will be a living hell for you. Just know that my fondest wish is for you to be lying on your death bed, waiting for the end, thinking to yourself, 'If only I hadn't fucked with Malfoy."

Draco turned on his heel and strolled away, leaving a stunned and ultimately pathetic Theo Nott in his wake. His smile was back in place by the time he caught up with Harry.

They survived the formal dance in style, since, with Draco leading, Harry managed to fumble his way through the steps without embarrassing himself for the first time. This was only important for a few minutes, since as the reigning couple, they opened the dance. After that, the rest of the class joined in, obscuring them from view.

Hermione and Ron made a fine couple at last, and Ron was finally in stylish robes (purchased by the twins, at Harry's expense and behest) for once. Even Draco was forced to eke out a few compliments. 

There were moments when it made his teeth grind to hold back the sharp comments that were once his pride and joy, but, even though it galled him, he had to admit that Harry's friends were as good in their way as his own.

When the formal dance was over, the crowd began to mingle and drift, some dancing, some dining, others in small knots of conversation. Draco had received one too many compliments about his necklace, and that kind of thing went straight to his head. The fact that Seamus had liberally spiked the punch contributed to his state of giddy happiness as well.

As the night staggered on like a cheerful drunkard, Draco felt a growing restlessness that demanded attention. He flicked a few searching glances about the room, then gave a discreet wink to Harry, who had been chatting amiably with Neville Longbottom. Harry knew that look well, and excused himself with all due haste. A minute later, they were snogging savagely in the dark and curtained alcoves behind the Great Hall.

Harry was busy ravaging Draco's neck, while Draco panted his approval, all the while navigating his hands through the maze of Harry's clothing, ultimately finding and freeing his goal. His fingers worked a magic all their own, and even Harry's explicit attention to Draco's neck and throat became fuddled as he was stroked and caressed into a state of taut and quivering excitement.

Minutes later, they had rather carefully arranged their clothing to allow a certain amount of freedom, and Harry was holding Draco's entire body aloft, legs around Harry's waist, while Harry thrust quickly and fiercely into his lover's pliant body, slamming Draco's back into the alcove wall. Draco had nearly bitten through his own lip, biting back the cries that were on the tip of his tongue.

There was an intensity about them that was frightening, a power that hung in the air around them and smoldered. Neither spoke a word save whispered adoration, and they let their eyes speak for them. When, after an almost incapacitating set of orgasms, they slowed to halt, they remained joined as they were for several minutes afterwards, clinging to a moment that would stand as one of the most joyful moments of a lifetime that was sure to be full of so many more.

Ginny had quietly led Dean Thomas into the alcoves for a discreet snog, idly hoping for something a little heavier (preferably in the petting department) and had selected a suitably distant and private place to conduct this little experiment. Or so she thought. 

Dean was doing well enough, and she was enjoying herself quite thoroughly, when Harry and Draco slipped into the alcove across the hall from her. They apparently failed to notice the silent couple nearby, because they made no effort to disguise their actions.

She tried to pay attention to her boyfriend's efforts, but his shoulder kept blocking her view, and, after things with the reigning couple progressed to a remarkably passionate level, she tapped Dean on the shoulder and turned his head. 

They watched in silence as Harry and Draco devoured one another in silence. It was embarrassing, knowing that they were peering in on a moment so intensely private, and yet they watched without a word until the end. Only when Harry and Draco had cleaned themselves, refastened their clothes, and left, did they finally dare to break their awed silence.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything that bloody HOT in my entire life." Ginny breathed in a hushed tone of respect. She slumped against the wall behind her, trying to catch up on the air she'd been short of, for lack of breathing, the last quarter hour.

Dean Thomas shrugged calmly and shook his head in amusement. "Well, fuck me if I haven't, either!"

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Actually, now that you mention it, that's not a bad idea! Let's go." And then they were off, hand in hand, this time in search of a place where interruption was a bit less likely.

Harry and Draco returned to the ball and proceeded to converse with their classmates, all the while sharing sidelong glances and equally insouciant smirks. The clock was close to striking twelve, and while the younger years had largely gone to bed, the older students were enjoying the late hour, even with the occasional watchful staff member observing their revelry.

As the clock whiled its way to the midnight hour, Draco pulled his lover into a kiss, holding Harry as closely as he could, letting the last minute slip away in a blur of soft lips and close warmth.

The hour struck loudly, but it was another sound that drew their attention. A faint buzz was emanating from the talismans at their wrists. The talismans distributed by the Order. Around the room, more than a dozen students, and most of the staff, gazed in horror at the words that flashed across the metal surfaces of the enchanted ornaments.

Lisbon, Portugal. Paris, France. Salem, Massachusetts. Washington, D.C. Moscow, Vienna, Prague, New York, Los Angeles, London…Hogsmeade.

The attack had come, and there was nothing to be done for it, save to do what they had been trained to do. The staff was already leading children to the basement of the castle, hoping the wards would hold, and that evacuation would not be necessary. Other students simply vanished, Portkeying directly to the locations to which they had been assigned.

Harry looked at his lover with a mix of despair and resignation. He took Draco's hand, and triggered his Portkey, letting the world dissolve into a rush that swept him toward his destiny.


	52. The Final Battle (part 1)

All I Ever Wanted…chap. 52 'The Final Battle (part 1)

 

The world tumbled back into view for Harry and Draco. They were located in the back room of a shop in Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ron already waiting at the alley door, wands out and at the ready. Draco grabbed the satchel of medical supplies and potions, and began spreading them out in the back corner of the room. Harry steeled himself for battle, pulling magic from the air around him, and paused before leaving, intending to make a proper goodbye to Draco.

Draco was having none of it. “Harry! Just go. I can’t…not…fuck it! Just go, love. I’ll be here when it’s over.” His voice was cracking a little, and if it hadn’t been urgent, Harry could never have left while hearing Draco so distraught.

Gryffindor’s Golden Trio stepped out the alley way door without a single word between them. Draco watched them leave with eyes that burned and blurred with tears. As they marched out in battle order, Draco whispered, “I love you, Harry,” but it was too late for anyone to have heard it.

Prague, Berlin, Rome, Istanbul, Dublin, Shanghai, Delhi. The talisman rattled off attack sites while Draco waited in nervous silence. Around the globe, Death Eaters and their minions were striking at wizarding and Muggle communities alike. It was a single, enormous, seamless program, aimed at crushing all resistance at the same time. And everywhere the attacks had come, the Order, and the wizarding world, were fighting back.

Draco could hear noises in the streets of Hogsmeade. Screams, the roar of flames, and the shudder of curse strikes against buildings. It was distant, but somehow more horrifying because he could not be a part of it. It was his part, his role, to wait and heal his team. The wait was driving him insane. 

Draco Malfoy was poorly suited for sitting still with no information. Contrary to popular belief, Slytherin was not the house of cowardice, but of caution. Now was the time for action, swift and merciless, and Draco, who was swifter and more merciless than any Slytherin in Hogwarts, was stuck in a dusty storeroom, with nothing to do but count the minutes.

Ron’s limp and unconscious body tumbled into the room by Portkey. Draco threw himself into his work, identifying injuries and hexes alike. Slashing Curse to the leg, and a concussion from the fall. One potion and two Healing spells later, Draco wrapped an enchanted bandage around the leg and tucked a blanket beneath Ron’s head for support. With a little luck, Ron would come to in a few minutes and he could get a battle report.

A few brutally slow minutes later, Hermione Granger appeared, Portkeying in on her hands and knees, gasping for breath, bloody foam at the corner of her mouth. Draco went back to work. Crushing Hex, right to the chest, with broken ribs and a punctured lung as the result. The hard part was getting Granger to stop talking while he worked. She was out of the fight for the duration. That lung wouldn’t be right for hours, no matter how many Healing Spells he cast. Ron was still out cold. HARRY WAS ALONE!

He’d been too busy to think of it, just doing what he’d trained to do, but now the sudden realization that Harry was out there, unguarded, spurred his adrenals and he knew what he had to do. Prophecy be damned, Voldemort be damned, duty and orders be damned. The last Malfoy would not be remembered as a coward hunkering in a dingy shop while his lover was in danger! He fumbled with Ron’s supplies and equipped himself.

Hermione, half conscious from potions and pain, saw what he was up to. “Mal-Malfoy. Draco. Don’t! He needs…needs you here. His dream…can’t happen….with you here. Safe.” The words were hellishly hard to get out, but they had no impact on a stony faced Draco Malfoy.

“Granger. ENERVATE! That’s a girl! Got your wind back. I wouldn’t have done that, but you'll need your wits about you. Drink the Pepper Up Potion when you start to flag. You’re in charge here, now. I’m taking Ron’s wand, and I’m going after Harry. I’m not leaving him alone out there.”

Hermione gasped as the spell hit her, flooding her body with energy that cleared away the fog of potions and painkillers. “GOD DAMN IT! Malfoy! Don’t do this! You belong here, not there, and you know it! He can take of himself better than anyone alive, he always has!”

Draco bit his lip for a moment, then broke. He kneeled by Hermione and looked her in the eyes. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough, Hermione. I can’t sit and wait for him to come home. I have to go. Forgive me. I love him, and I can’t not be there for him. If something…something happens, I might as well be there, because I won’t make it without him. Do you understand?”

Something about hearing brutal honesty from the lips of Draco Malfoy made Hermione crack. “Bugger. Go to him, love. Do what you have to. From the alley, take a right and head for the center of town. They’re everywhere, but they’re dead obvious. When you find Harry, just guard his back, let him handle the head on stuff. Now go.”

“One thing before I go, ‘Mione. Take this.” He shoved a bundle into her hand. “You may have breathing trouble later on. This works whether you can speak a spell or not. I brought it from my father’s room when I heard the Auror’s were leaving town. Use it if you have to.”

Hermione opened the bundle of cloth. It was an antique revolver, still clean as new, with six bullets loaded into the cylinder. “I’ve…I…never…”

“If someone comes through that door wearing black robes, point this at them and keep pulling the trigger until they fall down. Most protective spells aren’t geared to stop Muggle weapons. Purebloods are stupid that way…sometimes. I gotta run. See you when it’s all over, love.” 

Draco Malfoy kissed the top of her head, grinned a wicked grin, and was out the door and gone. Then it was Hermione’s turn to wait, listening to the sounds of destruction from outside. Perhaps ten minutes later, the sound of crashing glass close by told her that the front of the shop they were in had been cursed. She readied her wand, but it was getting hard to breathe again. There were footsteps in the glass beyond the door, crunching noisily. Panic slipped in, and Hermione held her breath the best she could.

“REDUCTO!” The door to the front of the shop blasted inward, scattering dust and debris around the room. Hermione tried to aim her wand but the dust inspired a cough that stabbed at her insides like a hot knife.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” The wand flew from her hand. The black robed man stepped into the room, pulling his mask back and taking in the situation. Rodolphus LeStrange smiled when he surveyed his handiwork.

“Oh, I’ve been told of you. The little Mudblood that runs about with Potter and that blood traitor boy of the Weasleys. How sweet, that I should be the one to find you. I will enjoy this, and not just for the rewards I’ll receive for finishing you off. I mean to make this last!” He move closer and aimed his wand again. Hermione steeled herself, trying not to give away the hidden item in her left hand, obscured by rubble.

“Stupefy!” Nothing happened. LeStrange frowned. “Stupefy!” Still nothing. What the hell was going on? “Impedimentia! Immobilus! Crucio! AVADA KEDAVRA! DAMNATION! What is this madness!”

Hermione didn’t know either, but she wasn’t waiting to find out. She drew the pistol with a calculating slowness, and aimed it perfectly.

“And just what do you think you’re…OH FU-” With a loud report, and a puff of smoke, the twisted mind that was Rodolphus Lestrange was spattered across most of the storeroom’s back wall.

“Was it good for you, too? Fucker!” Hermione laid the pistol down in her lap, then leaned back to rest on Ron’s shoulder and tried to catch her breath, hoping that Harry and Draco were still alive and well.

\---------------------------------------------

 

Neville Longbottom was stationed at the other end of town, with a satchel full of potions, bandages and antidotes. No one from his team had come back yet, and he was feeling as helpless and useless as he’d ever felt in his life. Somehow, Potions class was looking like a fond memory next to this.

Then all three of Neville’s team Portkeyed in, wounded, cursed and half unconscious. After that, there was nothing to think of but Healing Spells, and at least one of them was conscious enough to help. Neville managed to spill two potions, and accidentally sat on one of the antidote bottles, but at least he managed to get them bandaged up and comfortable. Two of them were out cold a few minutes later, recovering from shock, but the third went right to the door and back out into the fight.

Neville was nattering over his two patients like a mother hen, when the curse explosion hit the building. Dust and debris went everywhere. Glass was breaking, bricks and mortar were crumbling…and somewhere he could smell smoke. Timbers were creaking dangerously, and Neville knew he had no choice, it was safer outside.

He grabbed his first unconscious charge beneath the arms, and dragged him to the door, which was now leaning on its hinges. Neville kicked backwards, knocking the door open, and pulled his comrade to the far wall of the alley beyond. Then he ran back inside for the other. None too soon, either, since chunks of debris were falling faster, and a hole in the ceiling the size of his head allowed him to see licks of flame in the room above them! 

Neville bent down and grabbed his other teammate by the arms, and a chunk of mortar came tumbling down and crashed into his own head. It hurt like blazes, but there was nothing to be done for it, so Neville carried on, pulling the weight of his unconscious charge behind him.

He paused in the alleyway when his task was complete, gasping for breath. Blood was running down his scalp and into his eyes. The medicine satchel! He’d left it behind! He dashed back into the building one last time, stumbling over chunks of brick and timber, until he had the precious satchel in hand. 

The building itself seemed to groan…the walls looked like they were swaying! Neville made a dash for it, and slid out of the door, tumbling into the alley with the satchel clutched tight to his chest, just as a considerable portion of the upper floor made up its mind and quickly redecorated the lower one with three feet of stone and smoldering wood.

Neville couldn’t believe he did it! He was lucky just to be alive! AND he had just saved his teammates! Neville Longbottom, a hero! His heart was leaping in chest…and then he noticed the slender ankle in front of him. It was a lovely ankle, but the woman it was attached to was even more lovely. Only the icy cruelty of her face revealed her as an enemy.

“The irony is just delicious, don’t you agree? All that time in Azkaban for torturing the Longbottoms, and I get to be the one who finishes the job! How utterly perfect.” Her voice was a sickening coo. Bellatrix. One of the maddest and most vicious of Voldemort’s Death Eaters. The woman who killed for pleasure, not duty. 

Neville’s heart sank. He’d lost his wand in the rush to get everyone out of the building, his head hurt like hell, and he was exhausted. Now the fiend that had tortured his parents into St. Mungo’s had him at wand point. He’d failed. He was going to die, and then she’d kill the others, and the Longbottom name would be nothing but a sad memory. It was all his fault. He hung his head and waited for the inevitable.

“How should we begin? I think I’ll leave you the use of your limbs, as I do so love to watch them thrash when Crucio takes its toll! Then perhaps Imperius, so I can watch you cut the throats of your own friends. Apropos? I thought so. So my last, darling little Longbottom, let us pass the time. You should worry, it won’t be brief!” Bellatrix aimed her wand and smiled.

“Crucio!” Nothing. “CRUCIO!” Still nothing. Hope flickered to life in Neville’s chest! Bellatrix was muttering curses and looking incredulously at her wand. Neville stood up with a roar, grabbing the nearest object, a fallen trash bin, and swung it over his head, smashing a stunned Bellatrix LeStrange to the ground and knocking her out cold!

When Bellatrix came to consciousness again, she was aware of a heavy pressure on her spine. She was face down in the alley, and Longbottom’s knee was in her back. He had one her wrists pinned to the ground in front of her, fingers splayed out widely.

She struggled a bit, then blinding pain claimed her when his free hand bounced her skull off the pavement. She was sinking into blissful unconsciousness again, when the white hot fire of agony tore through her brain.

She heard a sickening crunch when the brick in Longbottom’s hand smashed her index finger nearly to a pulp. She screamed and writhed, but the weight on her was too much to fight through the pain. A few seconds later, Neville Longbottom’s voice made it through the fog of her mind.

“Sorry about that. Bit clumsy, I am. No worries, though. I’ll get the hang of it yet, don’t you worry! After all, I’ve got NINE MORE TO GO! BITCH! This next one, it’s for Mum!”

Right about then, and for the first time ever, Bellatrix considered the possibility that Azkaban hadn’t been all that bad of a place after all.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Mad-Eye Moody was fighting for his life. It hadn’t been pretty before, but it was getting really dicey now. He and Nymphadora Tonks had been pinned down by heavy curse fire. He managed to bring one of the bastards down, and Tonks had finally pegged another, but then the big one had laid her our completely with some searing curse that had blasted her backwards into the alley.

At some point, their wands quit working, and Moody had wound up fighting hand to hand with his enemy. It turned out to be that rat bastard MacNair when the mask came off, and Moody was still physically outmatched, despite a lifetime of fighting dirty against the Dark Arts.

One enormous paw was half clamped around his windpipe. MacNair had ripped off his magic eye, which had quit working anyway, and Moody kept trying get in rib shots with his free hand, while his left struggled to keep its grip on MacNair’s other wrist, keeping the sharp knife in that huge hand out of play.

“Yeh fuckin’ rat bastard! I knew ya for an unrepentant, murderin’ dog when I first saw ya! Shoulda dumped your carcass in Azkaban and left ya there,” croaked Moody. His breath was running out, and so was his strength. The man on top of him was just too heavy, too young, and too damn strong. Ah, well, at least he went out fighting to the last.

MacNair grinned hideously. “Keep talking, you old codger! I wanna hear your tune change when I open up your guts and play with them!” He yanked his knife hand back, and free of Moody’s grip, made ready for the final stroke.

CRACK! The grip on Moody’s throat slackened, and MacNair’s eyes crossed comically as he slumped to the side and fell over. In the gloom, Moody made out the shape of Nymphadora Tonks, wielding a large plank of wood, half her scalp burned and smoking in the night air. Moody gasped for breath, thanking all the gods that he’d see a little more of the world before he left it. Then he watched Tonks go to work.

She raised the plank again. “DO NOT…” CRACK!

“FUCK…” CRACK!

“WITH…” CRUNCH!

“MY HAIR!” The last sound of the plank striking MacNair was sickening, and heralded the certain end of the man’s life. Nymphadora stood over the body of the fallen Death Eater, panting and wild-eyed. She turned to Moody. She pointed the blood and gore drenched end of her improvised club at him. 

“Does anybody else here…have ANYTHING to say…about my fucking hair?!”

“Darling, wear it anyway you like, you’re still the prettiest sight this old eye has ever seen!”

“Right then. Let’s get cracking, we’ve still got a war to win!” Moody took the offered hand and clambered up. Once he had his wand, his eye, and MacNair’s knife, they were off and running, looking for the next melee.

\--------------------------------------------------

 

To Be Continued in The Final Battle (part 2)


	53. The Final Battle (part 2)

All I Ever Wanted…chap. 53 'The Final Battle (part 2)'

 

Severus Snape stumbled across the grounds towards the castle. He’d Apparated in with the rest of the attacking Death Eater’s, cast a few very visible spells at buildings, then slipped away as soon as he could. 

He’d been under close watch for days, never given a chance to sneak off. He had to get back into Hogwarts and pass along what he had learned. The Order could free Dumbledore with what he knew, and Albus could tip the balance in their favor. None of this would happen, if he didn’t make it to the castle alive, and that was a distinct possibility.

That miserable little shit, Pettigrew, had spotted him slipping away, and before Snape knew the little vermin was around, he’d been cursed from behind. His entire right side was half numb, burning and tingling from the spell, and if Pettigrew had been a better wizard, Snape wouldn’t still be running for his life.

He could hear that insipid voice calling for him. Snape’s wand was in his left hand now, and he flung a few curses behind him at random, just to keep Pettigrew’s aim off. 

The Shrieking Shack was just ahead. Snape looked up at the cloudy sky, and as the wind parted the clouds, a fat full moon hung above him. Severus had a plan.

Peter Pettigrew had never liked Severus Snape. Not in school, and not in Voldemort’s ranks. Every time Snape got near Voldemort, his poison tongue let slip comment after comment that subtly disparaged Peter. He knew what it was about. Severus had wanted to see Peter tortured and cast out, only to take his place by Voldemort’s side!

As soon as the battle had started, Peter intended to kill his rival in the confusion, but even better opportunities arose. Why fight in town when he could chase and kill a cowardly traitor in relative peace? He followed Severus’ every step, right to the front of the Shrieking Shack.

He’d seen Snape slump in the doorway, then heave himself through and slam the door behind him. There wasn’t any time to lose, the greasy bastard would only be more dangerous if he recovered!

“Alohamora! You’re finished Sev! This isn’t like school days. You’re not getting a pantsing in front of your precious girlfriend. I’m here to kill you, and I plan to drag it out a little.” Peter stepped cautiously through the door, peering around the room, looking at the different doors before him. He listened carefully, hoping for an easy clue as to where his nemesis had fled.

Then there was a faint creak, a shuffling noise, and soft whine from behind the door in the back, and Peter braced himself as he moved forward. One traitor, soon to be extinguished, complete with glory for Peter Pettigrew, the servant who brought their master back to life!

“Reducto!” Hmm. It didn’t work! “Alohamora!” Nothing! What had the tricky bastard done? There was a creaking sound behind him, and Peter whirled, suddenly realizing that he was in a house…alone…with no magic. Even wounded, Snape was a tricksy devil. Maybe an exit would be a timely choice.

Severus‘ voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. “Oh, Peter. Since we’re having a little reunion, I thought you might want to see another old dear friend. Say hello, Remus!”

The creature that leaped from out of one of the rooms was a living nightmare of fangs and claws, uncoiling like a spring, hot to slake its lust for blood and violence on the first visible target that presented itself!

Peter’s screams were drowned out by the cacophony of snorts, howls, and roars, and his world ended in a red haze of snapping bone and tearing flesh, while the beast above him glutted its blackest lusts for fresh meat.

Severus took the opportunity to slip out the door Peter had left unlocked, and then close it behind him, while the werewolf devoured its fresh kill. He couldn’t imagine why magic had stopped working, but who would have known a talent for ventriloquism would turn out to be so useful.

He smiled while he limped towards the castle, aching with every step. Nothing cheered Severus up like cruelly beautiful irony, and if he’d had both legs working, there would have been a spring in his step as he finally made it home.

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the alleyway, a wand in each hand, and put his best ‘game face’ on. Then he proceeded to march down the street, sticking close to the walls of buildings, curses ready on his lips.

Each time he ran into a Death Eater, they were usually fighting someone else at the moment. Usually it was Order members holed up in alleys, fighting clusters of black robed wizards that generally outnumbered the Order by two to one.

Draco, who wasn’t really expected, moved down the streets like a well dressed whirlwind of destruction and mayhem, blasting, hexing, and cursing every Death Eater within range, often times with several curses for each enemy. The maimed or distracted Death Eaters were easy pickings for the Order members, once Draco had evened the odds a bit.

His two wands never dipped as he stalked the street, determined to find Harry if he had to kill everything in his path to do it. He wasn’t using the ‘nice’ curses, either. Everything he’d cast had come from old texts at Malfoy Manor that were so dark most wizards wouldn’t touch them without gloves.

One Death Eater wound up turned inside out, frantically attempting to keep a hold on his own entrails as they slid down and hung about him, leaving him a wailing wreck in the middle of the street.

He could see pretty well in the street, since the small random fires lit Hogsmeade moderately well, and he trained his wands on two figures at the edge of a cross street. One of them was on the ground, motionless, the other held the head of the first in his lap, and knelt weeping. Draco took a step through the smoke and gloom. 

“Goyle?”

“Draco…they…I couldn’t…he’s gone, Draco. It was his father…his own fucking father! He just killed him. Avada Kedavra. Just like that, an’ he was gone. I was crawling my way back up after a Stunner. I saw a green light, and when I got up, Vince was down. I saw his father put his mask back on before he left. His FUCKING FATHER, DRACO!” Greg was coming unglued fast. He started to sob uncontrollably onto Vince’s collar.

Draco was numb. It was war. People died. Maybe he would die. He had imagined Harry dying, and the notion had terrified him. He hadn’t really thought of all the others that could be, that were dying…out there…right now. So much death. So much hate. Maybe death was better than being in a world like this. The sound of shattering glass, and the scream of a woman snapped him back to reality.

‘Greg! Trip your Portkey! Get clear! If you can’t fight, get to cover, and make sure you stay alive. I’ll see you again when it’s over. THAT’S AN ORDER! GO!”

Seven years of instinctive following kicked in, and Goyle triggered the Portkey and disappeared, still holding his fallen friend’s head in his lap. Draco blinked and caught his breath again. Then he headed back into the street. The fighting was tougher close to the center of town, and he could hear it coming already.

Draco kept going, relieving beleaguered members of the Order and desperate Hogsmeade citizens as he went. It only took minutes to make it to the center square of Hogsmeade, but it felt like hours had passed. He’d lost count of the number of people he’d cursed, but he had made certain that they’d suffer…assuming the bastards even lived.

He turned a last corner, and stopped in surprise at what he saw. Voldemort stood in the center of the street, completely surrounded by black robed wizards, and they were all connected by the greenish light of raw magic, like spokes on a wheel, with Voldemort as the hub! They were all feeding him power.

With hundreds upon hundreds of followers, the Dark Lord had picked a crop of magi with the same skill that he and Harry possessed, and had used them like an enormous generator. He didn’t have to concentrate to draw power! It was spoon fed to him by the knot of servants around him.

Harry stood alone in the middle of the street, facing all of Voldemort’s might single handedly. Massive spells exploded off his shields, and he fed from them, stealing some of their strength to fuel his own counter-spells.

Harry’s own spells couldn’t seem to penetrate the ring of shields that guarded Voldemort’s cohort, but he was holding his own, a single red and gold standard that stood proudly against a tide of black.

Draco watched in awe as the two combatants pounded each other with spells that made what he’d just done look like child’s play. The air itself felt alive, as gouts of raw magic leaked back into the fabric of the universe, released in quantities that defied magical logic, and in a way that hadn’t been used actively in hundreds of years. Even then, it probably hadn’t been like this! Draco felt every hair on his body standing on end, reacting with atavistic apprehension to the clashing of titanic forces in front of him.

Draco paid attention…and he realized that he might just be able to help after all. If he could angle himself just so, he might be able to interrupt one or two of Voldemort’s cronies, and screw up their little system. If he could just throw a Muggle wrench into the works, Harry could mow that lot down like wheat!

Draco moved slowly forward, keeping well to Harry’s right. As any skilled duelist knew, most shields did not cover everything. They usually covered the area most likely to be attacked. The face and torso most often. Draco knew this well, and proceeded to aim several select spells at the feet of Voldemort’s magi.

It worked like a charm, quite literally! One mage broke free of the chain, dancing about as his feet lit on fire, catching the hem of his robe and igniting the rest of his clothing. Another one lost a foot entirely to a Crushing Curse, bones pulped to liquid, and dropped out of the circle, screaming in incoherent agony. Voldemort took note, quickly, and turned his hideous gaze to the interloper. 

Harry saw Voldemort’s attention shift, and turned in horror to see Draco behind him, smiling wild with the flush of his success. He looked so fierce and proud, with his blond hair still perfectly in place, and his outfit from the ball making him look like a noble wizard of old. He looked so very alive when he smiled right at Harry. Harry’s mouth just barely opened to say something, and his eyes were wide with terror.

The Slashing Spell that Voldemort had cast struck Draco head on, opening him from chest to throat, and nearly severed his head. The blood spray as arteries opened was sufficient to spatter Harry from more than a dozen feet away. Harry watched that shredded body fall ever so slowly to the ground. He could taste his lover’s lifeblood on his lips. The copper rich stink of it stole away all reason. Voldemort’s laughter was in his ears. Then Harry’s world went black.

Harry had no recollection of that time. The matter was pieced together by witnesses after the fact. Voldemort’s spells continued to crash into Harry’s shields, and Harry ceased to fight back. At a guess, examiners of the phenomena that followed would say that, despite losing his conscious mind, Harry still absorbed every iota of magic thrown at him.

As Voldemort and his allies pummeled Harry with every spell they knew, some slid away from him like oil, and others were absorbed whole. None of them noticed that the light around Harry grew brighter, and it was much too late by the time they realized that he was floating several inches off the ground, a living battery, containing more magic than had ever existed in a single space at one time.

His eyes were flickering with green balefire, and just as the knot of Death Eater’s began to realize that their situation was becoming tenuous, Harry, by all reports, reached out his arms…and pulled. 

Behind Harry, Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt had seen Draco fall. Mr. Weasley grabbed Draco’s body and Portkeyed out to safety. Shacklebolt stayed behind to keep tabs on Harry. He knew enough to stay back from whatever was transpiring before him.

Harry drew in more. Not merely more, but rather, all the magical energy he could reach. Wands everywhere faltered, spells in operation faded, curses and wards collapsed and vanished. All through Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, magic flooded toward Harry, leaving only the faintest wisps behind in its wake. 

It was recorded that at some thirty-three minutes after midnight that night, every clock in Hogsmeade lost approximately 47 seconds. Time itself held its breath while every iota of magic for a mile in any direction answered only to Harry.

Voldemort stood in the street, his magi rendered helpless, his own wand useless, with no more strength than a Squib. The enormity of what was happening was just penetrating his mind, and the primal urge to flee suddenly flooded him. As he turned in nervous indecision, his followers broke and ran in a panic. The green and glowing young god that hung in the air before them, finally spoke. 

“Not you.” Those two words were heard everywhere in Hogsmeade, and every head turned to listen. Of course, the only sound most of them heard after that was a roar.

At the center of town, the magical powerhouse hovering a foot above the street reached out a hand, looked dispassionately upon the pitiful creature known as Tom Riddle and later, as Voldemort, and chose to snuff that creature’s life out like a candle. 

Harry unleashed the magic he held…all of it.

Voldemort had used others to channel for him, as his own channel wasn’t that vast. As a consequence, he had no hope of coping with what was unleashed upon him. No creature was ever intended to have so much raw magic strike them at one time. Suffice it to say, that the best description of what occurred was still a bit blurry, but essentially accurate.

Lord Voldemort was slowly, and apparently quite painfully, annihilated by the same magic that he once believed marked wizards as a superior species. There was nothing left of him, and it should be further noted, that even though it is hard to prove, most experts now agree that the very particles from which his body was created, were disassembled in that magical holocaust. Reality itself rippled for a moment in shock.

The followers who once idealized him as their natural and rightful lord, had sudden and immediate reason to regret that choice. Voldemort had linked each of them to his soul through the Dark Mark, and magical energy is a great deal like water, going wherever a path is easiest cut for it. The backlash of that blast struck every Death Eater, everywhere, at the same instant.

In every city where people were fighting for their lives, black robed killers fell screaming to the ground, clutching arms that burned. Most passed out from the blinding pain. A few of the most elderly followers passed away of heart attacks as the pain struck, most simply fell to the ground and could not cast spells for at least a minute or so.

Their intended victims, sensing weakness, wasted no time, and by the thousands, Death Eaters were captured, killed outright, or incapacitated. The few in Hogsmeade that kept their wits about them despite the pain, quickly fled the town.

Unfortunately for them, the Forbidden Forest was not a good place to run into. Dragons, Acromantula, Centaurs, and a very testy giant and his half brother, as well as two very irate Weasleys, were waiting for them. It was a brief and ugly encounter. It would be enough to simply say that a great many shreds of black cloth could be found in samples of monster spoor for several days to come.

As for Harry, when the magic left him, so did the light. He tumbled to earth like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kingsley Shacklebolt ran to his side, picked up the tattered, pale body of the Boy Who Lived, and tripped his Portkey to the nearest Healer. For better or worse, the war here was over, and it was time figure out what to do next.

 

End of Final Battle (part2)…be watching for The Last Chapter and the Epilogue!


	54. Happy Endings For All

All I Ever Wanted…chap. 54 'Happy Endings For All'

 

Harry became aware of the sensation of drifting. When he tried to open his eyes, despite being sure that he had tried, all around him was naught but empty darkness. He felt heavy. It was a bit like dreaming, but he felt completely conscious. Was this what happened when you died? 

A far off light became faintly visible. Harry saw pinpricks of light fill the darkness around him suddenly, and with a rush of vertigo, he knew he was standing. There was nothing beneath him, and yet he felt secure upon some unknown surface.

“Is anyone there?” No reply, but at least he could speak now.

“Hello!?” 

Something faint could be heard in the empty distance.

“Help! Where am I?!” The sound of footsteps became clear and distinct. Still, Harry could hear no other voice. A thread of panic crept through him, even in this strange state of mind. Would he be alone here forever? 

“Harry! I’m coming!” The voice was terrifyingly familiar. Harry peered into the inky haze and saw a dark figure moving slowly closer.

“Who are you?! Where are we?!” 

“I’m coming, Harry! Wait and stay calm!” The figure moving through the gloom was tall and lean. Harry could make out long dark hair framing a slightly gaunt face. His heart leapt when the man drew closer.

“SIRIUS! Is that you! Sirius! I thought I’d never see you again.” Harry ran breathlessly into the arms of his godfather, who patiently wrapped his arms around Harry and let the younger man lose himself for a few minutes.

Harry held Sirius as tightly as he could, afraid that the man would vanish like a will o' wisp as soon he let go. He finally pulled away a little, teary-eyed, just enough to look into Sirius’ eyes and speak.

“I’m so sorry! It was my fault. If I’d just listened, it…that never would have happened. I…I never told you how much I loved you. You were so good to me, and I got you killed! I do love you. I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m sorry…”

“Shhhh. It’s alright, Harry. Listen to me. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong that I didn’t do, too. You know what? Maybe if we’d shared a little more information with you, it never would have happened at all. Everybody dropped the ball that day. Don’t worry about it. I love you, too. I just wish I’d said it then. Stop crying, okay. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. Quite the contrary, I’m so proud of you I could just bust! You really did it!”

Harry’s memories came flooding back to him. Voldemort, Hogsmeade, Draco, all of it! Harry stepped away in horror and looked around himself in shock. His location hadn’t really registered on him yet.

“Sirius! Am I dead? Where are we?”

“No. You’re not dead, and we’re ’in between’ right now. Remember the Veil? Well, that’s how I got here. There isn’t much hope of going back, either. They kinda frown on transients. You, however, are a different case. Sometimes, when a person has been through extraordinary circumstances, like you, there’s just a little wiggle room.”

“But…” Harry had a few questions, but Sirius interrupted him.

“Hang on, Harry. I’ve got a lot to cover here, and it may answer most of your questions before I’m done. Trust me. In fact, let’s sit down.” They sat, face to face, and Sirius continued.

“I wound up here by accident. This is just a place people pass through on the way to somewhere else. Next life, heaven, hell, whatever you want to call it, it comes after this. No one is supposed to stay here, but I didn’t really die, and I’m not technically alive, so I’m stuck. The ‘management’ has no way to deal with it, so I’m essentially an errand boy for them. When you slipped through here, I asked to be the one to talk to you. So here we are.

Now, frankly Harry, you have a big choice to make. You can move on from here, and whatever is waiting for you after life will be there. You can also choose to go back. You can wake up as soon as you heal up and come conscious, and be a part of the world again, at least until you pass on of other causes someday. I’m happy to see you, Harry, but we don’t have long. Time moves differently in this place. It feels like it hasn’t been long since I got here, but from the look of you, it’s been a couple of years. I wish I had more time with you, and we do have a little, but it won’t be much. Okay, questions?”

Harry took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “Where is Draco? I belong wherever he is.”

Sirius looked apologetic and guilty. “Harry, I’m really sorry, but I’m not allowed to know, or tell, anyone about anyone else. If I knew, I’d tell you in a heartbeat, but I don’t. I can only tell you what I feel, and I want you to know that I’m glad you found someone who made you happy. That’s a hard thing to find anywhere.”

“Okay. So you couldn’t say anything about my parents, either, could you?”

“No. I couldn’t. Shite, I feel fucking useless to you, Harry. I wish I could…I can only say what I feel. I want you to live, Harry. You had too much on your shoulders for so long, and now you’ve gone and done it. You won! I want you to have a real life, one without any of that shite hanging over you. I want to know you’re out there laughing with friends. But…it has to be your choice. I can’t make it for you.”

“Damn. I meant that, Sirius…you know, before…about you. Now you tell me there’s no way out for you, and I can’t know where the people I love are before I choose. I’d like this to be the last hard choice I have to make for awhile. I’ve had enough of that. I’m just really tired. It’s been so hard. I missed you more than I can even say, and the only thing that made me feel alive again was meeting Draco. I saw him fall, but I don’t know if he lived or died. If I choose wrong, how will I find him again?”

“Go with your gut, Harry. There is no wrong choice. You live, you pass through here one more time, just later. You die, you go where you go, and people will catch up with you sooner or later. I’m just glad I got to see you for a little. I’m so proud of you, Harry, and I know James and Lily would have been, too. You turned out better than any kid has a right to! Just as long you know you’re loved no matter what, go ahead and make your call.”

Harry grabbed Sirius into a desperate hug, and some instinct told him he’d better say goodbye before he chose, as there would be no words after. He felt Sirius stroking his hair gently and choking back a sob of his own. Then Harry chose, and everything whirled away.

\---------------------------------------------

 

“…and they lived happily ever after. The end. I liked that one, didn’t you, Harry? I know fairy tales seem a little juvenile, but the classics are just timeless. I know I like reading them to you. I miss you, love. They don’t believe me, but I know you can hear me in there. I know you’re coming home. I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll always wait for you, Harry. I love you…”

Somewhere in Harry’s mind, it felt like a switch had turned. He felt so heavy, it was an effort just to think. He was practically a prisoner in his own body. But he heard that voice.

If he could have moved, he would have screamed for joy, but nothing seemed to respond right. And there was PAIN! His mind actually hurt, and his body as well, though not so much. It felt like he’d been the victim of a lengthy Crucio. It was a lot easier to just not try. The beautiful voice nearby kept on speaking, and he was vaguely aware that his hand was being held, even though it felt like an unresponsive lump of lead to Harry.

“…and it’s almost time for visitors to leave again. Don’t worry though, I’ll be back tomorrow. I always come back. First thing tomorrow we’ll start another story. Happy endings for all, I promise.”

Harry felt something akin to panic. He didn’t want to be alone like this. He knew that voice, he wanted that voice near him so badly. He had to do something! The hand was slipping away from his, and he felt softness brush against his brow. Harry bent his will to a single task, and with every fiber of being he forged a single word.

“..don..” It took everything he’d ever learned from Occlumency to make his will control his body, but he’d done it. He could hear the gasp of breath that said he’d been heard. Then a heavy weight was on him, and he had the suspicion that the weight was cute and blond, even though his world was dark at the moment. Then the weight pulled away.

“HE’S AWAKE! HELP! HARRY IS AWAKE! GET IN HERE! PLEASE! Gods, don’t these people ever listen! Harry! Harry, stay with me, can you do something for me? Can you move? Just twitch a muscle, anything. I knew you were there! I knew you’d come back! I knew you could hear me, and I know you just couldn’t answer then. Here they come, Harry. They’ll help. Just try to do something else so they know your okay.”

“Mr. Malfoy! St. Mungo’s would appreciate a shred of decorum on your part. This is a hospital, and as such…”

“Harry just spoke! Stuff your decorum! Get your asses in here and get to work! If my lover goes another minute without being checked, I swear I’ll fill the wards with the staff, starting with you!”

“I never! If...”

“IF YOU DON’T START DOING SOMETHING USEFUL RIGHT NOW…YOU NEVER WILL, EITHER! WAND UP! NOW!”

“Alright, alright. Diagnosium! Hmm. Let’s see. There is activity, and coherent thought. Muscle atrophy is only mild as we continued treatment. Speech center functional. I believe you’re right, Mr. Malfoy, we can take steps from here if you’ll excuse us. We’ll let you know as soon as there’s an improvement, but visitor’s hours are over.”

“He asked me not to go, you prat! He’s conscious, and I’m not leaving! I’ll donate a wing if you want! Name it after whatever pathetic spawn you generated at home if you like, but if you ask me to leave now, they’ll need a new field of study to cure what I do to you!”

“Aaaa…very well, Mr. Malfoy. I see no reason why, at this stage, it would harm anything to let you stay.”

“I thought you’d see it my way.” Harry could almost hear the wicked smirk that must have accompanied that comment.

\--------------------------------------------------

Harry woke the next morning, and the spells and potions had done their work. He felt much better, and the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the hand that held his own. His eyes followed that hand to the sleeping boy in the chair next to the bed. 

Draco looked unbearably beautiful, even though his clothes were rumpled from being slept in, he looked thoroughly unkempt, and his eyes has dark circles under them. Harry had enough strength, thanks to a host of spells, to squeeze the hand that held his own.  
Draco’s eyes flicked open, and a heartbeat later, he was curled around Harry on a bed that was much too small, and never intended for sharing.

It took a long while for Draco to return to a state of even partial coherency, and they saved the heavy conversations until long after Harry had been liberally coated in kisses. Harry found that he could move and speak with surprising ease, considering his condition the night before, and he made as much use of his energy as he could, managing to sit up and even shift his pillows without help.

The room was covered in flowers, vases, gifts, cards, and balloons. Some were Muggle in origin, others clearly magical, complete with enchanted images and scrolling well wishes. Harry got up his courage and finally asked some important questions.

“Love…how long was I…you know…gone?”

Draco sighed, he hadn’t been looking forward to anything serious, just having Harry with him, conscious and well, was enough to leave him giddy.

“Harry, this might be a little much for you to hear, but it’s been weeks since the battle. You’ve been in a coma. You channeled more magic in a few minutes than any human was ever meant to…and there were…well…side effects.”

Draco was biting his lip. Harry felt a flicker of nervous apprehension in his stomach. This couldn’t be good. There were things Draco obviously didn’t want to have to say. Harry closed his eyes for a second, then steeled himself for the worst. He remembered Sirius, he knew he’d won, what could be so bad after that? A world with no Voldemort, and Draco was all his. Nothing to worry about!

“How many weeks, love. I’m okay. Just tell me.”

“Not many, just the last four weeks, plus a couple days. As soon as you came out of the coma last night, they started treatments to get your motor skills and speech back into shape, and they say there won’t be any lasting scars.”

“See, that’s not so bad, love. What other side effects?”

Draco looked stricken. He pulled a mirror from a bag at his feet and held it to himself nervously. “Before you look, I want you to remember that not only do I love you, but you look incredibly sexy to me, and only the fact that you have some healing yet to do has kept me from ravishing your body right here. Okay?”

“The fact that you have to throw me a disclaimer has me worried, but I feel fine. Don’t worry so much…give me that and I’ll have a look for myself.” Harry was sweating bullets over Draco’s little speech, but if he showed it, it might panic Draco. He took the mirror and turned slowly toward his face.

Everything was fine. Chin good, cheeks fine, if a little hollow, lips and nose fine, eyes green as ever, hair mussed and…and wrong! The hair above his temples, running down either side of his head, were a fine silvery gray. The rest of his hair was the same mussed black as always, and his face was normal, but his hair…his hair looked like that of a man twenty years older. When Harry looked very closely, he saw small ‘crow’s feet’ wrinkles just at the corners of his eyes.

“Wow.” It came out quieter than Harry intended. “Draco, how? How did this happen?”

“The raw magic, love. They tell me you may have burned a few years off the end of your life. I guess it’s the price for using that much power. Premature aging wasn’t listed as a warning for using raw magic, but apparently no one has ever used that much before. There were other effects, too.”

“Like what?” Harry wanted to just listen to Draco, he didn’t feel ready to think about all this yet. 

“There’s a place in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade, the spot where you destroyed Voldemort. It’s about two meters across. No magic works there. None. They tried everything. The best guess is that so much magic struck that spot, that the fabric of reality is a bit weak, and the universe copes with that by not allowing any more interference. They put up a statue of you there last week. Looks perfect, and it fills that area and prevents people from accidentally having spells fail when they walk by. Two birds with one stone, you know?”

Harry’s imagination reeled. What the hell had he unleashed? Draco had told him what was known about Voldemort’s death earlier, and shared the long list of who was injured in the final battle, including the news of Vincent Crabbe’s death, but Harry still couldn’t believe that he’d done what had been described to him.

“What else? I know there’s something you don’t want to say. I’m tired, not blind, love. You can tell me. I’m alive, and so are you. I already have all I ever wanted, nothing else matters.” Harry swallowed. His words sounded brave, but his stomach was fluttering something awful. 

Draco grimaced and tried to look Harry in the eyes without cracking. He couldn’t quite manage it. “Harry. They say your channel is…it’s, fucking hell!” Draco broke for a moment while tears slipped down his cheeks. He gasped for air and finally spoke again.

“You might never be able to use magic again. Your channel was…damaged. Burnt shut. Only Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione and I know about it. We don’t even know if it can be healed, or if it will ever heal itself. There’s no way to know, Harry.”

Harry hadn’t seen that one coming. He blinked a few times in shock. He’d only really been a wizard for seven years, but he’d paid the price for being one his entire life. It was hard to be frightened of a life without magic. He’d already led one. Now he was just Harry Potter again. Harry let his breath out in a long sigh. “I see.” It was all he could figure to say at the moment.

Draco leaned close again. “Harry,” he whispered, “I don’t care about the magic, I don’t care about anything but you. I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back. I told them you would, but I never let them know how afraid I really was. Last night, when you spoke, I fell in love all over again. I couldn’t make it without you. I just need you to know how happy I am just to have you awake and talking to me again. We’re going home in a couple of days, and as soon as you have your strength back, I’m going to make you pay dearly for the month I just spent not having sex. Do you hear me?”

Harry swallowed nervously. “You’re okay with…with me being a Squib? It might be permanent, and you’re still alright with that?”

Draco looked crossly at him. “Get it through your thick head, Potter. You are my only love. I will never love another.” 

Draco pulled the jewel pendant from beneath his shirt. “I will die wearing this, Harry James Potter. Nothing changed who you are, and nothing ever could. Magic or no, you are and always will be mine.” Then he leaned in and snogged Harry half senseless. Even exhausted, Harry’s libido began to faintly flicker to life under the barrage of kisses he received. 

The rest of the day was spent greeting visitors, who were allowed in in pairs, one pair after another, all afternoon. Most of the Order, Gryffindor House, and a few Slytherins made an appearance, but Albus Dumbledore was the most welcomed. 

When the old wizard finally stepped through the door, eyes twinkling brightly, Harry almost launched himself out of bed. Only Draco’s insistence that he take it easy kept him still long enough for Dumbledore to come to him.

Albus hugged Harry for what felt like an eternity, and Harry realized after a bit that he wasn’t the only one crying. 

“Oh, my boy. Harry, you make an old wizard proud. Welcome back, welcome back.” The old man finally broke away, took a seat and pulled a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. There wasn’t even the slightest trace of embarrassment on Albus’ face while he rubbed away his tears and blew his nose loudly into the cloth.

“You surpassed all our expectations, Harry. I only wish I could have been there for you. I cannot tell you how sorry I truly am, that I was unreachable, when you most needed help. That you prospered and succeeded despite my failure, is proof positive of what an exceptional young man you have become. In the end, you saved us all, when no one else could have. This world owes you a deeper debt than most will ever know, Harry. I, for one, count myself among the fortunate, that I have had the pleasure of knowing you.” 

Harry was dumbstruck for a moment, then collected himself and asked the question that had been at the back of his mind for months.

“I’m just glad you’re alive. I missed you so much. Please…tell me what happened to you.”

As it turned out, Albus Dumbledore had been returning from mainland Europe when Voldemort’s agents became aware of his presence. There were other places in the world where magic did not work, proof of some ancient accident of magic long passed, and this time the Dark Lord’s servants used such a place as a trap. 

Voldemort himself had set the snare, using his servant’s movements and deeds to lure Dumbledore’s interest. Unaware that he was the spied upon and not the spy, Albus had stumbled into their trap and had been imprisoned.

Voldemort had no intention of killing him until after the battle was over. There were possibilities for bluffs and tricks as long as Dumbledore was not confirmed as dead, and so water and bread were slipped to him, sustaining the old wizard’s life, if not his good cheer.

It was one of Voldemort’s bluffs that had lured Scrimgeour into pulling the Aurors from Hogsmeade, and it had worked perfectly. To Harry’s relief, Albus informed him that, as soon as the Wizengamot learned of Scrimgeour’s colossal blunder and it’s nearly ruinous consequences, the man was sacked and ejected from the Ministry with his reputation in tatters.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was now the Minister of Magic, and was doing an uncannily good job, despite only a few weeks of practice. That news cheered Harry quite a bit. 

Albus had finally been rescued from his prison the day after the battle, when Severus Snape returned to consciousness, having been knocked out by the surge of magic that struck him through his Dark Mark. He quickly informed the Order of Voldemort’s trap and Albus’ location, and hours later, Albus was back at Hogwart’s, enjoying his first decent meal in months with considerable relish and gusto.

Since then, Albus had been quite busy closing Hogwarts for the season, and dealing with the many Order members and Ministry officials who inquired of Harry. He had also researched Harry’s condition as much as time and his limited energy would allow.

Truthfully, Albus Dumbledore looked almost as old as he really was. Even Harry could tell that the long captivity had taken a visible toll on the elderly wizard’s health. It came as no surprise when Dumbledore informed them quite soberly of his intention to retire. 

He would spend one last year at Hogwarts, coaching his replacement and making necessary changes, and then he would leave Hogwarts for good, returning to the large cottage on the coast of Scotland that he maintained for vacations and personal study.

Albus had a few gifts to impart as well. Draco hadn’t mentioned it, but even in absentia, Harry had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. Albus hand delivered it to Harry then and there. He promptly produced a second one and handed it to a shocked Draco.

“I’m afraid you weren’t counting at the time, my dear boy, but when you were wandering through Hogsmeade during the battle, witness reports indicate that you incapacitated or killed no less than fourteen Death Eaters, more than anyone else in the Order. No less than nine separate survivors credit you with saving their lives that night, including Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt. With the exception of Harry, no one person made a greater contribution to our victory over Voldemort than you. Congratulations are in order I believe.” Dumbledore shook each of their hands in turn.

Harry looked at Draco, who was blushing brightly and stammering in embarrassment that it wasn’t as much as all that. “Fourteen! Draco! That’s bloody fantastic! Why didn’t you tell me!”

“It wasn’t like that…really. I was looking for you and they were in my way. They had to go. Nothing all that heroic. Hell, I cursed most of them in the back while they were attacking someone else. Slytherin way and all. Although I will say that Ron’s wand probably never saw that much action before.”

“You deserve it! Do you realize people will think of the name Malfoy and the word hero as synonymous now? You did it, love!” Harry pulled Draco into a kiss; even bedridden the excitement overtook him. 

Dumbledore eventually excused himself, with the intention of simple handshakes, but only actual hugs would suffice for a farewell. Draco spent that final night at the hospital practically glued to Harry’s side, and after another day of heavy treatments, Harry was well enough to walk, albeit rather slowly, and only with the aid of a cane and Draco.

They returned home to the Manor that day, and Harry slowly settled into a life of luxury he’d only imagined. His NEWT scores had been excellent, and his accreditation from Hogwarts was waiting for him. It included his license for Occlumency and Legilimency, as well as his more traditional certifications in Potions and Defense Against The Dark Arts.

As it turned out, Slytherin had taken the House Cup that year, largely owing to the hundred-plus point lead they’d gained from academic improvement. The credit went to Draco, Blaise and Pansy, with Draco being held in the highest possible esteem for his efforts on behalf of his house. The fact that his final accreditation included honors for acting as a pro-tem instructor made him quite the stand out graduate, indeed!

Draco had considerable scarring from the curse that had nearly killed him. Only Arthur Weasley's timely intervention had made it possible to hold Draco's spirit to his body. Just along his collarbone, across his throat and chest, and along his ribs, Draco had a red weal and faintly puckered flesh that would never heal. 

None of it was visible when he was formally dressed, but at home he occasionally broke into tears when he disrobed. Eventually, the knowledge that Harry adored him more than ever, scarred or no, sunk in, and the tears eventually faded to occasional frowns.

The summer moved on, and with much experimentation, Snape, Dumbledore, Hermione and Draco managed to assess the state of Harry’s magical abilities. They ran small tests almost daily until they could work out what was and wasn’t safe for Harry to try.

With effort, Harry could travel by Floo, and even command a broom. It was harder than ever before, but at least Harry possessed a little more magical talent than say, Filch or Arabella Figg. Apparition was out of the question, requiring too much power for Harry to even attempt, and wandless spells were equally out of the question.

With wand in hand, Harry could occasionally get out weak spells, the likes of which he’d once been casting in first year. After a while, despite the protestations of others, Harry simply made himself comfortable doing things the Muggle way. 

He avoided the public eye more than ever, and spent endless days tending the Malfoy gardens by hand. His relationship with Draco was fine, and they ‘christened’ nearly every room in the Manor within a few weeks of moving in.

Draco, however, chafed at the knowledge that Harry had stopped fighting to win his magic back. Sometimes Harry would forget his condition, reflexively casting an ‘Accio’ or a ‘Lumos’, and the look of shame and anger that flickered across his face made Draco want to scream.

At least Harry seemed happy. He loved the gardens, and had made improvements to one section after another. They hadn’t really left the Manor for more than a few hours in nearly three months, and Draco had hoped to travel sometime soon. He’d hoped to leave England before the winter came, but Harry seemed utterly absorbed in his gardening, and dodged the subject whenever it was brought up.

One day in late September, as a cool and pleasant breeze played across the grounds, Harry looked rather mournfully at one of Narcissa’s prized roses. Despite his best efforts, the center bush was dying. All the care Harry could muster availed him naught.

He’d forbidden Draco to interfere by magic, and he suspected that Draco occasionally violated that request whenever Harry wasn’t watching. As long as Draco was subtle about it and wasn’t caught, Harry didn’t begrudge Draco’s urge to help. It was better than arguing about it, and he still didn’t like thinking of his long absent magic.

The rose bush had reached a critical phase in its illness. Another few days and it would be beyond recovery. Harry could not bear the idea of failing Narcissa, and letting her beloved roses die, even if he had to break down and ask Draco for help. He was not, however, willing to surrender just yet.

Harry looked about furtively, hoping that Draco wasn’t watching. It wasn’t that failing hurt Harry. It was the look of angst on his lover’s face that tore Harry’s heart in half and left him cursing his loss of power. Draco wasn’t anywhere to be seen…so Harry gathered his will.

He took his time, calming his mind as only an Occlumens could, and reached calmly out with his mind and wand, then uttered his spell with quiet determination.

The rather tattered and sickly bush exploded with vitality, blooms and shoots rushing out in response to Harry’s command! Harry fell over backwards in shock, landing arse first in his supply of manure, laughing like a maniac all the while.

Harry stood, feeling tall for the first time in months, and dropped his wand. He reached out his arms, palms up and fingers loose…and pulled. The magic came, and as fast as it came, Harry poured it into the gardens around him. Flowers leapt to attention, shrubs burst into life, trees grew by inches, and even the grass thrived and thickened. Harry stood in the center of a riot of colors and scents, crying and laughing at the same.

Draco heard the sounds of excited birds and other animals, and stepped to the window to look in on Harry. He burst into tears when he saw the spectacle below, and dashed the length of the Manor to get out to the gardens. He threw himself into Harry’s arms, laughing almost as maniacally as Harry, and Harry held him close and swung his lover around in his arms.

As soon as Draco’s feet touched the ground again, Harry kissed him with a wild and passionate urgency that had been sorely missed those past few months. When, at the last, their lips finally parted, green eyes shined at Draco while Harry made his thoughts known.

“Hey, love? How do you feel about winter in Europe? I was thinking, maybe take a year off and just check the world out, just you and me.” Harry raised a cocky eyebrow, and wound up spending the next hour accepting Draco’s answer right there in the garden. Even the brief shower of rain was insufficient to part them, but that was alright. Some things are even better when wet.

 

THE END. (almost ) The Epilogue chapter will be up soon, closing this story for good. Thank you all, for your patience, your reviews, and your time.


	55. The Epilogue

All I Ever Wanted: The Epilogue....by Samayel

As the months flew by in a comfortable haze of friends and celebration, Harry and Draco settled into a life of contentment and ease. In due time, they held a gathering of considerable size at the Manor, to commemorate their swearing of Oaths to one another, and to bind themselves in a handfasting ceremony, which bound them as a man and wife would be bound.

Although wizarding law did not consider such unions legal, they did not expressly forbid them, either. The ceremony was magically binding, and the Oaths were sworn with friends as witnesses, and that was good enough for them.

The honeymoon lasted nearly a year, and Harry and Draco traveled the globe visiting sites of interest, Muggle and wizarding alike. It was a truly magical time for them, and during that time they learned more of the differences between them, and how the depth of their affection for one another helped them to overcome those differences.

Upon their return, Draco poured himself into charitable works, funding aid and relief for victims of the war, and into magical research for the curing of spell damage and other common post war ailments. As a result, the name Malfoy ceased to be spoken in whispers and alongside curses, and became synonymous with heroism, fidelity, and kindness. Draco achieved his dream. The gardens were always full of friends and guests, and the name Malfoy stood at the pinnacle of wizarding society once again.

Harry, on the other hand, exercised his Legilimency skills by learning to heal the minds of patients in St. Mungo's. It took a great deal of effort, and each case was unique and required considerable study, but Harry felt better about his work than anything else he had ever done.

After lengthy study and many exhausting sessions of treatment, Harry finally effected a cure for the Longbottoms, and Neville, now a war hero in his own right, finally had his family beside him again.

Neville did quite well for himself, having gained considerable self confidence from his brief wartime experience. He mastered Herbology and authored several texts on the subject, which led to his eventual position at Hogwarts, replacing the retiring Professor Sprout.

In the fullness of time, Neville Longbottom became a Headmaster of the school he loved, and was cherished during his long tenure in a way that was reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore (although, to the great regret of the student body, Headmaster Longbottom tended to keep more nutritious snacks in his office.)

Ron Weasley proposed to Hermione less than a week after the war, and after a lengthy engagement (to wait for Harry and Draco's return), they were wed in the Malfoy gardens on a pleasant day in late spring. Ron easily won a contract with the Chudley Cannons, and after a difficult start as a Keeper, he shifted positions at his own request, turned out to be a sensational Beater, and finally had the career he'd always dreamed of.

Hermione Granger continued her studies for years after leaving Hogwarts, and despite periodic breaks to give birth to, and care for, a growing brood of red headed children, Hermione eventually surpassed her teachers and became a noted lecturer on Theoretical Magic.

It was Hermione’s tireless work that eventually led to a breakthrough only made possible by Harry's enormous power. Five years after the war had ended, with the cooperation of the Ministry, Harry pierced the Veil and brought Sirius Black home at last.

Sirius spent most of a year just rediscovering the world of the living and completely redecorating Grimmauld Place, and enjoyed a life of leisure and travel, stopping regularly to visit his loved ones, only to then rush headlong into his next adventure.

Albus Dumbledore passed away quietly one night, just a few days shy of what would have been his one hundred and sixtieth birthday. The funeral that marked his passing was the most widely attended event in modern wizarding times, and even those who had once been at odds with the former Headmaster paid their respects politely and sincerely. There could be no doubt that, if a century could be indelibly marked by a single man's efforts, then the previous one clearly bore Albus Dumbledore's brand.

Harry and Draco inherited a bewildering array of artifacts and texts from Dumbledore's considerable estate, and it took quite some time to make sense of most of it, but the most cherished item of the lot was the Pensieve that came to occupy Harry's den in the Manor.

Minerva McGonagall succeeded Albus as Headmaster of Hogwarts School, with the full support of the school's governors. Her lengthy tenure saw the return of Remus Lupin, who, in the light of werewolf-friendly Ministry legislation, taught Defense Against The Dark Arts quite successfully until his retirement.

Remus' fondest memory of those years was coaching Harry in his Animagi training alongside Sirius, until at last Harry could transform himself into a stag, just as his father had once done.

On a moonlit night in a carefully warded section of garden, Moony, Padfoot and Prongs the Younger finally ran again! One year later, they were joined, not by a rat, but by a white ferret, who, despite many indignant protests, was assigned the name Squeaks.

Severus Snape retired to a small villa in the south of France, and devoted his time and effort to a personal vineyard. His vintages were so memorable that, within a few years, the name Snape was spoken with breathless admiration instead of dread at dinner tables throughout the wizarding world.

He also penned a new series of Potions textbooks that finally capitalized on his long held belief that his own techniques were superior to the common standard, and these books eventually dominated the market, ultimately becoming the new standard textbooks at Hogwarts, as well as most other wizarding schools.

Severus visited Malfoy Manor often, and enjoyed his visits immensely, claiming that 'without Potter's usual bumbling to correct, life had become quite dull.' Despite his long inclination towards stoicism, sarcasm and occasional vitriol, rumor held that, after a sufficient number of brandies, he was occasionally known to smile and laugh, but this cannot be completely verified.

Gregory Goyle became a quiet and taciturn man. After much testing and training, and with the help of his well placed friends, he finally became an Auror, and spent his life hunting down and arresting renegade wizards. It surprised no one to hear that, when the occasion demanded it, Greg ALWAYS played 'the Bad Cop' while questioning suspects.

Very late in his life, Gregory Goyle rescued a widowed witch from a pack of thieves, and to his surprise, as well as his friends', he wound up marrying her shortly before his retirement, and remained by her side for the rest of his life.

Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson married only two months after the war. This may have had something to do with Pansy's pregnancy of three months, but it ultimately made little difference. The Zabini and Parkinson fortunes fell to them, and their union turned out to be quite a happy one. Draco chided some years later that they were trying to 'outbreed the Weasleys, and he was all for it', but they never did quite catch up to Ron and Hermione's enormous brood. 

Nonetheless, many young Zabinis cavorted in the Malfoy gardens, joined by hordes of red headed Weasleys. It was a spectacle Draco often wished his father had lived to see, if only to have watched Lucius attempt to contain a Grand Mal seizure.

Theodore Nott drank himself to death before his thirtieth year, rambling alone in the dilapidated house of his ancestors. As he was a recluse, as well as something of a thorough bastard, it was quite a while before anyone noticed, and far longer before anyone cared. There was good reason to believe that even his last words were likely interrupted...by a sudden compulsion to comment about his astonishingly tiny penis. 

In an interesting side note, Luna Lovegood, whose wartime participation in Dumbledore's Army went largely unnoticed, inherited the Quibbler empire and Lovegood fortune. She promptly funded and led a proper hunt for the Crumple Horned Snorkack. It took several years and several teams to scour the globe, but at long last, on an empty and windswept Asian plain, she located the last living herd of Snorkacks.

It was quite difficult, as the creatures were terribly shy, but she eventually introduced herself into the herd, and while her staff observed from a considerable distance, she lived among them for a full week. 

In a twist of truly bitter irony, while Luna learned of the gentle nature of Snorkack social structure, she returned the kindness by introducing something of her own to the herd. The common cold.

Centuries of separation from humanity had left the poor creatures with no immune defense against such a thing, and they were dead before the second week was out. That was the last of the Crumple Horned Snorkacks, and Luna never forgave herself, eventually sinking into depression so severe that it required institutionalization.

Her estate published her private journal notes regarding her experiences among the Snorkacks, however, and Luna Lovegood's 'Snorkacks In The Mist' eventually broke all sales records previously held by Gilderoy Lockhart.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco found to his considerable surprise that he actually like children. He had little choice, since their friends had simply oceans of them, but it certainly helped that he found the little tykes adorable and amusing.

If Draco had a single regret, it was that he would have no heir. He had regained everything his family had lost and more, but it would vanish like mist when he and Harry were gone. This matter worried him more and more as time went on, and though Harry seemed to understand and sympathize, Draco took it harder and harder with each passing year.

One day, Draco and Harry took a long vacation, as they so often did. They sent letters from exotic locales, and made Firecalls periodically, but they remained away for just over a full year. No one, not even their closest friends, knew precisely what they had been up to, but when they returned home, they brought with them an infant child, whom they introduced to the world as James Malfoy, their son.

Magical investigation was required to establish paternity and inheritance rights, and clearly indicated that the boy's parents were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, but the two never spoke of or explained how this miracle had come to pass. Even Hermione and Ron never managed to get more than a shy smile and a wink out of the new parents, and when asked if they planned to pull a stunt like this again, they only shook their heads sadly and asserted that, not by choice, James would be an only child.

James Malfoy was a quiet and fey child, with nearly white blond hair, and striking green eyes. He cried but little, was given to long rounds of staring at things with remarkable intensity for an infant, and quickly became quite social. He learned to speak distinct words at less than nine months of age, and continued to develop with a swiftness that astounded even veteran parents like Molly Weasley. 

Harry and Draco doted on their child, and rebuilt their lives around a single task: raising James as well and wisely as they could.

James was an uncanny child, and possessed an openness and innocence that seemed unfazed by life's little cruelties. James was raised with the absolute knowledge that his parents loved him more than anything in the world, and having been raised with so much love, he seemed willing to share it with the world.

Unfortunately, this innate kindness and basic gentleness resulted in his being sorted into Hufflepuff, which left Draco in tears for almost three days.

On the bright side, James quickly established himself as uncommonly gifted at magic in general, incredibly popular with other children of all houses, and a natural on a broom. With so much to boast of on behalf of their son, Draco eventually got over the trauma of a Malfoy Hufflepuff, and prepared for the emotional roller coaster ride of having a teenaged son.

Blessedly, James conducted himself in a largely gentlemanly fashion, despite having access to a certain Cloak and Map. His teenage years passed with only the most marginal of rebellions, and he grew into a handsome and charmingly confident man. He married his school sweetheart, who met with Draco and Harry's approval, and promptly began to produce grand children at an alarming rate. Once again, the Malfoy gardens were full of children, and Harry and Draco basked in contentment.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, was working in his beloved garden on a pleasant summer day…when his heart gave out quite suddenly. He passed so quickly that his spirit was gone almost before his body slumped to the earth he'd just so carefully spaded.

He was only a few weeks past his seventy-eighth birthday. It was quite young by wizarding standards, but the magic he had used to save the world had carried with it a high cost, taking years off the end of his life.

The wizarding world mourned as deeply as they had for Albus Dumbledore, but no one mourned as Draco Malfoy did. He stopped eating and locked himself in his rooms, even snapping at his beloved son and grandchildren. He finally emerged after a week long bout of depression, and attempted to put on a facade of coping.

Despite many well wishers and concerned friends and family, he slowly distanced himself from others, spending more and more time in his suite, surrounded my pictures and mementos of his Harry.

Draco Malfoy lasted only nine years longer than his lover. At the last, he barely spoke or left his bed for more than a few hours at a time. He could dote on his grandchildren and great grandchildren, but he found it increasingly hard to remember all their names and faces. Everything hurt, and he was so terribly tired all of the time. It was quite vexing, but when he returned to his suite he felt better.

When he was certain that no one would see him in such an undignified state, he would pull the pendant jewel out of his nightshirt, stare into the twinkling depths, and weep because the wonderful man who made it for him years ago was beyond his reach, and because the bed they had once shared might as well have been an empty desert without Harry beside him.

One night, Draco woke suddenly from a rather pleasant dream. There had been dark and messy hair, green eyes that brimmed with boundless love, and the sound of laughter. Draco's breath was short, and his chest began to ache. He was frightened, and clutched the pendant at his chest while he gasped for breath. He wanted to call out, but he simply couldn't muster the strength, and then as quickly as it had come, the pain slipped away.

Draco looked down at the bed, and saw himself contorted among the sheets, his body gone slack at the last moment. If he'd still possessed lungs, he would have sighed with relief. Nine little years. They had felt like an eternity in darkness.

For all that he loved his family, he was so very glad his time was done. There was somewhere else he needed to be, and he could hear voices calling to him in the grey distance. One voice among the many was distinct and clear to him, and when he heard it, the oppressive sorrow that had darkened his last days was gone in an instant. 

When Draco Malfoy left behind the world of the living, he left without a single regret, for he'd truly had all he ever wanted. 

 

THE END.

 

Author's Notes: Frankly speaking, this has been the most gratifying and educational project I've ever undertaken. I've been writing consistently for the last five and a half months, which is a personal best. The urge to write is still firmly in place, fueled by the same enthusiasm I started with, and tempered by considerable practice.

The sheer volume of people I should thank is so countless as to be unwieldy in document form, but there are two special thank you's that I must make. The first is to Jennavere, without whom none of this would have been attempted, much less posted. If I hadn't realized that fan fiction could be good, I never would have tried, and I would have missed out on so very much. Second, my personal thanks to the staff at The Hex Files, who pummeled me until my atrocious abuse of English improved, and without them I could never have managed to edit my own work with any degree of consistency. Finally, my thanks to everyone who reviewed AIEW here or on any other site. Those who corrected my mistakes helped me grow, and those who shared their happiness and excitement over something I wrote made all the effort completely worthwhile.

ART for All I Ever Wanted, created by the very talented Isinuyasha, can be found at photobucket at this link.  
http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r88/Samaelthekind/Scannen.jpg Please enjoy!

Thank you all so very much! This is not the end of me writing fanfiction, but it may be a couple of weeks before I do anything more than back edit my existing material, or prepare new stories for the pre-editing stage. I shall return. Samael/Samayel

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] All I Ever Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278042) by [EpicOtaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpicOtaku/pseuds/EpicOtaku)




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